B 

B9922*. 

ARGUMENT 


OF 

JAMES  T.  AUSTIN, 

ATTORNEY  GENERAL  OF  THE  COMMONWEALTH, 

BEFORE  THE 

SUPREME  JUDICIAL  COURT  IN  MIDDLESEX, 

ON  THE 

CASE  OF  JOHN  H.  BUZZELL, 

ONE  OF  THE  TWELVE  INDIVIDUALS  CHARGED  WITH  BEING  CON- 
CERNED IN  DESTROYING  THE 

URSULINE  CONVENT, 

AT  CHARLESTOWN. 


Reported  verbatim , by  the  Stenographer  of  the  Mas. 


BOSTON : 

PRINTED  BY  FORD  AND  DAMRELL, 

mechanics’  hall Wilson’s  lane. 


1834. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1834,  by 
T.  C.  GREAVES’, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  District  Court  of  Massachusetts. 


' 6 


ARGUMENT. 


v 


May  it  please  your  Honors  : — Gentlemen  of  the  Jury. 

I congratulate  you  and  myself,  that  this  most  extraor- 
dinary case  is  now  drawing  to  a close.  I shall  endeavor,  as  far 
as  I may  be  additionally  concerned  in  it,  to  tax  your  patience 
as  little  as  possible ; and  I shall  act  thus,  because,  if  lam  not 
very  much  mistaken,  there  is  no  point  in  this  case  that  ought  to 
be  productive  of  a moment’s  doubt  in  the  mind  of  any  sensible 
and  intelligent  man.  And  yet,  Gentlemen,  I will  not  attempt 
to  disguise  from  you  the  important  nature  of  this  trial.  It  is  an 
important  case.  Important  to  the  prisoner,  who  has  forfeited 
his  life  to  the  laws  of  his  country  ; and  important  to  the  country, 
because  its  laws  have  been  violated,  and  its  peace  has  been  dis- 
turbed. But,  most  of  all,  Gentlemen,  is  it  important  to  you ! 
The  crowd  who  have  assembled  in  this  Court-house,  day  after 
day,  look  upon  this  trial  as  the  trial  of  John  R.  Buzzell  alone. 
It  is  not  so.  You,  Gentlemen, — I say  it  with  all  respect, — 
you  are  also  on  your  trial  before  your  country,  before  poster- 
ity, and  before  your  God.  The  events  you  are  investigating  are 
to  be  recorded  in  the  history  of  your  country ; the  connection 
you  have  had  with  them  is  to  be  recorded  also,  and  both  will 
go  down  to  posterity  as  long  as  history  shall  exist.  This  trial 
— like  some  of  those  that  have  come  down  to  us  in  the  political 
history  of  the  people  whence  we  sprung,  that  proceeded,  or 
were  connected,  with  their  great  revolutions,  and  the  crises  of 


4 


their  nation — or  like  others,  which  took  place  in  the  days  of 
our  forefathers, — is  to  show  how  far  the  people  of  this  country 
are  competent  to  self-government ; how  far  our  political  institu- 
tions, of  which  Trial  by  Jury  is  one,  consist  with  the  safety  and 
security  of  the  citizens,  the  rights  of  property,  personal  pro- 
tection, and  those  liberties  and  privileges,  which  the  govern- 
ment was  established  to  secure  ; how  far  our  tribunals  of  justice 
are  temples  consecrated  to  truth,  where  all  her  ministers  are 
holy ; or  how  far  they  are  erected  for  some  idol  worship, 
where  prejudice,  passion,  partiality  and  base  fear,  are  attendants 
at  the  altar.  It  is  yet  to  be  seen,  whether  there  is  safety  and 
security  in  a confident  reliance  on  the  supremacy  of  the  law, 
for  protection  to  the  innocent,  and  punishment  of  the  guilty ; or 
whether  these  forms  of  judicial  trial  are  assumed  in  bitter  mock- 
ery and  scorn,  to  delude  and  deceive  us  ; — whether  reliance 
may  be  placed  on  the  stern  integrity,  the  enlightened  percep- 
tion, the  immovable  justice  of  the  men  with  whom,  in  the  course 
of  our  proceedings,  the  ultimate  decision  is  to  rest. 

According  to  the  theory  of  our  laws,  reliance  may  be  placed 
upon  the  integrity,  the  intelligence,  and  the  immovable  sense  of 
justice  of  the  men  I address.  I have  no  wish  to  give  utterance  to  a 
doubt  upon  this  subject ; but  yet  I say  that  you  are  upon  your  tri- 
al ; and  the  more  so,  from  the  way  in  which  you  have  been  select- 
ed. The  prisoner  has  only  exercised  a right  that  belongs  to 
him,  in  selecting  you  as  the  individuals  who  are  to  try  him  ; but 
in  choosing  two  from  Charlestown,  he  has  placed  you  in  a very 
delicate  and  responsible  situation.  If,  however,  he  calculates, 
gentlemen,  in  your  possessing  a bias,  he  is  deceived ; because 
you  have  all  sworn  that  you  have  no  bias.  But  it  is  difficult, 
sometimes,  to  separate  from  the  mind  preconceived  notions, 
however  much  we  may  wish  to  do  so  ; and  prejudices  frequently 
influence  our  conduct,  unconsciously  to  ourselves.  Among  the 
prejudices  likely  to  operate  in  a case  like  the  present,  is  that 
which  relates  to  a capital  trial.  You  have  been  told,  that  such 
is  the  responsibility  resting  upon  a juror  in  a capital  case,  that 
it  is  often  impossible  for  him  to  decide  properly, — as  if  a juror 
had  any  thing  to  do  but  to  decide  upon  the  facts  before  him. 


5 


The  counsel  for  the  defence  have  told  you,  gentlemen,  that 
the  law  under  which  the  prisoner  has  been  indicted  does  not 
apply  to  this  case.  You  have  nothing  to  do  with  that. 
If  the  learned  counsel  are  right,  that  is  a matter  for  the  Court, 
and  the  Court  will  take  care  that  your  verdict  does  not  harm 
the  prisoner.  But  there  is  no  capital  trial  in  this  country,  prop- 
erly so  called.  If  you  find  a verdict  against  the  prisoner,  and 
the  Court  pass  judgment  upon  him,  he  cannot  be  executed  upon 
that  judgment  alone.  This  Court  is  not  like  the  Circuit  Court, 
which  can  try  prisoners  one  week,  and  sentence  them  to  ex- 
ecution the  next.  The  record  of  sentence  must  go  hence  to  the 
Governor  and  Council,  and  there  is  a statute  of  the  Common- 
wealth which  permits  those  individuals  to  commute  the  decision 
of  the  judge,  and  enables  them  to  punish  the  prisoner  in  part, 
or  not  at  all,  exactly  as  they  please.  Permit  me,  then,  to  say, 
that,  in  giving  a verdict  in  relation  to  this  prisoner,  you  are  no 
more  instruments  in  his  punishment,  than  the  officer  who  arrest- 
ed him,  the  turnkey  who  locked  him  up,  or  we  who  have  talked 
to  you  in  the  case.  It  is  true  he  cannot  be  punished  without 
your  verdict ; but  he  is  only  on  the  road  to  punishment,  when 
you  say  he  is  guilty. 

Again,  there  is  a prejudice  existing  in  relation  to  the  crime 
which  lie  is  accused  of  having  committed.  I have  been  shock- 
ed to  hear  some  of  the  suggestions  which  have  been  thrown  out 
in  relation  to  the  character  of  this  crime.  Is  it  a trifling 
offence  ? One  which  might  be  decided  upon  and  punished  by 
a justice  of  the  peace,  or  suffered  to  pass  without  any  punish- 
ment at  all  ? In  my  mind,  any  conclusion  of  this  kind  is  erro- 
neous. This  transaction  unites  within  itself  every  circum- 
stance of  Wickedness,  Depravity,  Violence  and  Brutal- 
ity, that  ever  combined  together  in  any  one  transaction  in  the 
whole  history  of  crime. 

It  is  Arson,  Burglary,  Robbery,  Sacrilege  and  Mur- 
der, united -perpetrated,  too,  with  the  most  shameless  reck- 
lessness, and  the  most  cruel  wantonness  of  purpose — with  the 
most  fiend-like  deliberation,  with  the  most  protracted  and  con- 


6 


tinued  atrocity ; — without  the  slightest  motive,  that  can,  in  the 
least  degree,  palliate  this  concentration  of  all  detestable  villany 
—and  with  no  excuse  now  offered,  by  way  of  mitigation,  that 
does  not  dye,  in  deeper  guilt,  the  miscreants  by  whom  it  was 
committed. 

Let  me  carry  you,  for  a single  moment,  to  the  scene  of  this 
midnight  devastation ; let  me  ask  you  to  look  at  it  before  the 
torch  of  the  incendiary  had  reduced  it  to  a ruin. 

You  find  there  a large  estate,  purchased  and  paid  for  by 
three  native  American  citizens ; held  by  title  deeds  of  the  same 
validity  and  efficacy  as  those  by  which  you,  Mr.  Foreman,  hold 
your  estate,  or  any  of  your  pannel  their  farms  or  dwelling 
houses.  On  this  piece  of  land,  before  rude  and  uncultivated, 
a large  and  extensive  pile  of  buildings  was  erected,  and  honestly 
paid  for,  to  the  mechanics  and  builders  employed  in  procuring* 
the  materials  and  doing  the  labor,  among  whom  were  several  of 
the  immediate  neighbors  of  this  valuable  property.  The 
grounds  were  laid  out  with  a regularity  and  beauty,  that  any  but 
Vandals  would  have  spared,  for  their  elegance  and  taste. 
Lawns,  gardens,  fruit-trees,  flowers,  bloom  around ; and,  in  one 
remote  corner,  the  hand  of  affection  and  piety  had  consecrated 
the  last  sad  sleeping  chamber  of  the  hallowed  dead.  Within 
the  walls,  eight  feeble  women  found  their  home,  with  no  pro- 
tector but  the  God  whom  they  served,  and  the  laws  they  were 
willing  to  obey.  This  recluse  society  of  women  were  religious 
women — devoting  themselves  to  a consecrated  service,  on  the 
faith  of  that  article  in  our  bill  of  rights,  which  secures  to  every 
one  the  utmost  toleration,  and  the  most  perfect  right  of  enjoying, 
professing  and  observing,  whatever  religion  he  pleases. 

But,  although  retired  from  all  active  commerce  with  the 
world,  they  still  had  connection  with  it  in  one  of  the  most  use- 
ful, honorable,  and  interesting  employments.  They  were  a 
community  of  instructors — teachers  of  youth — school-mistres- 
ses. In  a country,  boasting  of  its  regard  for  education, — all 
whose  .institutions  are  founded  on  the  presumed  knowledge,  and 
consequently  on  the  education  of  the  people, — these  eight 
women,  with  two  lay  sisters,  preparing  for  the  same  purpose, 


7 


devoted  themselves  to  the  instruction  of  female  youth ; and 
such  was  their  assiduity  and  attention,  that,  for  several  years, 
they  had  received  a large  patronage  from  the  most  intelligent 
and  respected  of  your  fellow-citizens.  They  had,  at  this  time, 
sixty  pupils,  of  whom  forty-seven,  from  six  to  sixteen  years  of 
age,  were  then  within  the  walls  of  the  institution. 

With  no  debt  unpaid ; no  duty  unperformed  ; with  no  personal 
enemy ; and  giving,  as  far  as  they  knew,  no  cause  of  offence  to 
any  human  being ; unarmed,  because  ignorant  of  danger ; defence- 
less, because  not  apprised  they  had  any  thing  to  fear ; surrounded 
by  a population  of  an  hundred  thousand  people,  who  boast  of  their 
attachment  to  peace,  order,  tranquility  and  law — these  women 
retire  to  rest.  Suddenly  they  are  awakened  by  frightful  yells,  like 
those  which  startled  our  ancestors,  when  the  warhoop  of  the 
native  savage  burst  upon  their  midnight  slumbers.  They  start 
from  their  beds  frightened  and  alarmed.  The  little  ones,  in  the 
agony  of  their  fear,  gather  under  the  wings  of  their  protector — 
she  scarcely  less  frightened  than  themselves.  The  bonfire, 
round  which  the  demi-savages  are  dancing,  throws  its  horrid 
glare  into  the  chambers.  The  sick  and  dying  woman  faints ; 
the  terrified  lunatic  is  driven  again  to  delirium  ; stones  fly  ; the 
windows  are  broken  ; life  is  insecure  ; and  the  distressed  inmates 
are  obliged  to  flee.  All  leave  the  place  but  one.  One  timid 
female  only  remains,  to  face  this  ferocious  mob ; but  the  woman’s 
heart,  under  the  influence  of  a mother’s  feelings,  gains  more  than 
a lion’s  strength.  Yes,  gentlemen,  the  mother — (not  by  ties  of 
consanguinity) — that  old,  infirm  woman,  whom  you  saw  on  the 
stand,  she  dares  to  remain,  lest  any  of  herchildren,  any  of  her  sis- 
ters (by  religion),  should  be  exposed  to  the  licentiousness  of  these 
lawless  ruffians.  She  traverses  the  building,  from  the  basement 
to  the  cupola;  opens  every  chamber,  and  runs  from  place  to  place, 
exclaiming  in  agony,  like  David  of  old,  “My  child,  my  child.” 
But  all  happily  are  out  of  danger,  and  she  goes  back  again 
towards  her  own  room,  to  save  the  little  property  of  the  institu- 
tion. She  finds  it  filled  with  armed  men ; she  turns  into  the 
passage,  and  there  beholds  another  band.  She  then  retreats 
to  the  garden,  where  she  finds  the  cowering  children,  driven 


8 


like  doves  from  their  dove-cote.  All  then  leave  the  institution. 
Look  at  that  sad  procession,  gentlemen,  quitting  the  burial  place 
of  all  their  happiness.  Mr.  Cutter  has  told  you,  that  when 
he  met  them,  they  did  not  speak  a word;  that  they  looked 
stupified  ; and  he  had  to  gather  them  into  a place  of  safety,  as 
you  would  gather  or  drive  sheep  into  a pen.  There  was  no 
weeping,  no  exclamations  of  sorrow,  no  tears — ‘ grief  drank  the 
offering  ere  it  reached  the  eye.’  Presently  the  building  is 
sacked.  Beds,  furniture,  plate,  vestments,  the  decorations  of 
the  altar,  and  the  Word  of  God,  are  alike  the  prey  of  this  des- 
olating multitude.  Broken  or  stolen — all  is  lost.  Fire  is  de- 
liberately applied.  A torch,  furnished  to  assist  the  engines  in 
putting  out  a fire,  is  designedly  used  to  kindle  one.  The  work 
of  destruction  goes  madly  on,  and  that  noble  building,  wrapt  in 
flames,  rolls  its  accusing  volumes  to  the  skies,  till  naught  remains 
but  heaps  of  blackened  ruin.  The  out-buildings  share  the  same 
fate.  The  tomb,  too,  is  violated — as  if  nothing  was  sacred 
enough  to  be  preserved  from  destruction.  The  children  are 
sought  for  by  their  agonized  parents,  and  saved,  in  their  night- 
clothes, from  the  devouring  element.  The  women,  too,  are 
preserved — all  ? — all  but  one . She  is  killed  by  alarm  and  ex- 
posure. Is  not  this  murder?  Why  not?  What  is  murder, 
but  the  felonious  taking  of  life,  a little  before  the  time  decreed 
by  Providence  for  its  duration  shall  have  expired  ? 

It  would  be  bad  enough,  if  all  this  ended  here.  But  this  is 
but  the  beginning  of  the  evil.  The  Commonwealth,  the  na- 
tion, the  people,  are  disgraced  and  degraded.  We  seem  to 
have  rolled  back  again  the  tide  of  improvement ; to  have  re- 
ceded in  the  march  of  mind  ; to  have  become  more  bigoted, 
instead  of  more  liberal ; to  have  proclaimed  universal  toleration 
in  our  Constitution  and  our  laws,  and  to  have  practised  more 
intolerance,  with  greater  penalties,  than  our  ancestors  did, 
when  they  persecuted  the  Quakers,  or  denounced  the  Baptists. 
We  talk  about  liberty  and  equal  rights,  and  practise  the  most 
cruel  tyranny  that  ever  disgraced  a despot.  We  punish  for 
opinions,  for  modes  of  faith  and  forms  of  worship  ; and  this,  too, 
before  trial,  and  without  trial.  We  are  cowards  as  well  as  vil- 


9 


lains.  We  make  war  on  old  women  and  young  children — first 
taking  care  to  inquire  if  they  have  a gun  or  pistol  within  their 
dwelling-house.  The  head  magistrate  of  the  town  in 
which  this  outrage  was  committed,  where  was  he  ? He  goes 
up,  looks  round,  admonishes  the  people,  that  he  thinks  they 
have  done  enough ; and  then,  having  sore  eyes,  goes  home  and 
to  bed.  Where  are  the  other  magistrates — the  militia — the 
neighbors  ? None  are  to  be  found.  No  neighbor,  no  magis- 
trate, no  friend,  to  take  the  part  of  these  helpless  women. 
Nothing  is  courageous  but  crime.  It  will  be  inscribed  in  our 
history,  that  here,  at  least,  the  age  of  chivalry  is  gone.  The 
mob  put  down  every  thing  and  every  body.  They  ravage,  as 
they  please,  in  the  very  luxuriance  of  iniquity. 

And  where  is  all  this  done  ? On  one  of  those  hill-tops, 
which,  less  than  sixty  years  ago,  was  consecrated,  by  the  best 
blood  in  our  country,  an  altar  to  liberty  and  the  rights  of  man. 
By  the  side  of  that  ever  memorable  height,  which  tells  to  all 
time,  the  glory  and  the  greatness,  the  courage  and  the  patriot- 
ism, of  your  fathers,  this  defendant,  and  his  associates,  have 
inscribed  the  degeneracy  and  the  baseness  of  some  of  their  de- 
scendants. By  that  glorious  monument,  which  is  rearing  its 
proud  and  noble  height  to  catch  the  first  sun-light  of  the  morning, 
and  throw  it  back,  in  honor  of  the  gallant  spirits  who  died  there 
for  freedom,  this  defendant,  and  his  associates,  have  left  a black- 
ened and  mournful  memorial  of  the  manner  in  which  that 
freedom  has  been  exercised  by  the  race  that  have  succeeded  them. 
Destruction  is  more  speedy  than  erection.  The  column  on 
Bunker  Hill  rises  slowly  to  the  honor  of  our  fathers — but  the 
blackened  battlements  upon  Mount  Benedict  are  the  work 
of  a night.  See  to  it,  that  it  be  not  so  with  the  State  ! 

Can  any  sympathy  be  felt  for  a man  who  makes  war  upon 
women  and  children,  destroys  their  property,  endangers  their 
lives,  violates  all  the  laws  of  the  land  ; and,  in  so  doing,  inflicts 
a wound  upon  the  country,  from  which  it  can  never  recover  ? 

Where,  in  the  pride  of  your  American  feelings,  do  you  carry 
a stranger,  who  asks  to  see  the  high  places  of  your  national 

glory  ? To  Bunker  Hill ! And  when  your  hearts  are  warmed 
2 


10 


there,  with  reverence  for  the  ancestry  from  whom  you  sprung ; 
when  you  recount  to  him  the  sacrifices  they  made,  and  the  suf- 
ferings they  endured,  to  sustain  the  infant  fortunes  of  your  coun- 
try ; when  you  dilate  with  rapture  on  their  virtues  and  patriotism, 
their  love  of  order  and  liberty,  and  their  resistance  to  tyranny, 
oppression,  and  the  imposition  of  lawless  power — what  if  he 
shall  cast  his  eyes  onward,  and  inquire  the  name  of  that  other 
monument  which  frowns  so  frightfully  from  Mount  Benedict  ? 
What  will  you  say  for  yourself,  or  to  him  ? The  chill  of  fifty 
winters  cannot  strike  such  an  ice-bolt  through  your  heart,  as 
would  the  question  of  that  stranger. 

The  Russians  have  a vapor  bath,  in  which  the  heat  is  kept 
at  above  an  hundred  degrees,  and  when  every  pore  is  dripping 
with  perspiration,  they  pass  from  the  building,  and  plunge  fear- 
lessly through  the  broken  ice  of  the  Neva,  or  roll  themselves 
naked  on  their  eternal  snows.  An  American  tried  the  experi- 
ment there,  but  he  died.  These  rioters  have  introduced  such 
a bath  for  American  patriotism.  The  transition  from  the  house 
to  the  river,  is  not  greater  to  the  body,  than  is  that  to  the 
mind,  from  Bunker  Hill  to  Mount  Benedict ! 

There  is  but  a single  addition  that  can  be  made  to  this 
frightful  reality  of  midnight  robbery,  plunder,  desolation  and 
crime.  It  is,  to  be  forced  to  say,  that  we  cannot  ascertain  wTho 
did  the  deed  ; that  we  know  not  the  culprits  ; that  we  are  un- 
able to  single  out  one  man  in  the  thousand  who  led  on  this 
band  of  ruffians  to  their  act  of  riot  and  debauchery.  It  is  to 
add  to  the  disgrace  of  the  law  that  could  not  prevent  all  this 
ruin,  the  infamy  of  not  being  able  to  discover  the  perpetrators, 
and  to  allow  these  rioters  to  laugh  at  the  imbecility  and  supine- 
ness of  the  boasted  power  of  a judicial  tribunal.  v * 

One  addition  only,  did  I say,  gentlemen  ? There  is  yet  a 
worse  calamity  that  may  befal  us  than  all  that  has  happened. 
Such  a misfortune  will  happen  if  ever — may  God  forbid  it — 
if  ever  the  tribunals  of  justice  prove  traitors  to  their  trust ; if,  to 
a Jury  of  the  Country,  fair,  honest  and  full  evidence  should  be 
presented,  and  such  a jury  should  be  recreants  to  their  duty. 
Then,  indeed,  it  might  be  said,  the  days  of  American  liberty 

f • * # 


11 


were  numbered — then,  indeed,  it  might  be  said,  that  the  people 
were  unfit  for  free  government — then,  indeed,  it  might  be  said, 
that  the  last  hope  of  civil  and  religious  liberty  had  expired;  and 
from  the  anarchy  which  is  to  follow,  we  might  consider  it  a re- 
lease, to  be  subjected  to  the  most  iron  despotism  that  ever 
ground  an  unworthy  people  to  the  dust. 

If,  then,  you  come  to  the  inquiry  of  this  case,  with  any  of 
those  doubts  and  prejudices  which  have  been  abroad,  I beg  you, 
for  your  own  sakes,  for  the  sake  of  your  children,  and  the  coun- 
try, which  must  last  longer  than  either,  to  dismiss  them  from  your 
minds.  I beg  you  to  consider,  that  a blot  has  been  brought 
upon  the  escutcheon  of  that  country  ; that  a great  crime  has 
been  committed — an  act  of  barbarism,  for  which  language  has 
no  name — a crime,  which  renders  the  individuals  who  commit- 
ted it,  obnoxious  to  all  the  indignation  and  punishment  ever 
exercised  towards  the  most  flagitious  offender. 

Let  us  now  examine,  gentlemen,  the  evidence  before  us ; 
and  see  what  is  your  duty  in  relation  to  it.  I have  not  the 
slightest  inclination  to  express  any  doubt  that  you  will  endeavor 
to  understand — that  you  will  faithfully  perform  that  duty. 

And,  “ good  men  and  true,  stand  together,  and  hearken  to  your 
evidence.” 

Before  we  proceed  to  the  testimony  which  has  been  adduced 
in  this  case,  it  is  necessary  to  establish  certain  rules  in  relation 
to  it.  My  learned  friends  seem  to  have  thought  that  you  might 
do  as  you  liked  in  this  matter — that  you  might  select  certain 
parts,  and  leave  others,  and  treat  the  whole,  like  the  merchan- 
dise in  a trader’s  shop,  to  be  taken  or  left  at  the  purchaser’s 
pleasure.  I must  be  permitted,  however,  to  tell  you,  gentle- 
men, that  evidence  can  only  be  rejected  by  a jury  in  accordance 
with  certain  rules  of  law,  and  rules  of  common  sense,  established 
by  wise  men,  and  the  efficacy  of  which  has  been  proved  by  the 
experience  of  ages.  A jury  have  no  more  right  to  depart  from 
these  rules,  than  they  have , to  commit  the  offence  for  which  the 
prisoner  at  the  bar  is  indicted.  They  cannot  set  aside  Catholic, 
any  more  than  they  can  Protestant,  testimony.  If  they  could 
set  aside  Catholic  testimony,  they  might  do  the  same  with  Bap- 

UNivcrsity  Oh 

HZINOIS  LIBRARY 


12 


tist,  Unitarian,  or  Methodist  testimony.  Once  admit  that  lines 
are  to  be  drawn  in  this  way,  and  our  courts  become  useless  ; 
we  have  only  to  ascertain  the  religious  faith  of  the  jurors,  to 
know  at  once  how  a case  will  be  decided. 

The  rules  of  law,  gentlemen,  have  been  read  to  you,  and  I 
beg  here  to  say,  that  the  only  duty  of  a jury  is  to  draw,  as 
intelligent  men,  an  inference  from  the  evidence/which  is  laid  be- 
fore them.  We  cannot  tell  whether  the  fact  it  establishes  is 
true  or  not ; all  we  can  say,  is,  that,  by  the  testimony,  it  is  true  ; 
— and,  if  afterwards,  it  is  found  to  be  false,  we  can^till  say, 
that  we  have  exercised  our  best  judgment,  and  are  innocent 
ourselves. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  you  are  to  consider,  in  relation  to 
this  case,  the  number  of  witnesses  that  have  been  brought  for- 
ward.  The  law  says,  indeed,  that  one  unimpeachable  witness 
is  as  good  as  a hundred  ; but  in  a case  like  this,  numbers 
strengthen  each  other.  Their  united  testimony  is  a cable  of 
many  strands — these  cords  are  not  to  be  separated.  One  might 
not  be  sufficient  to  moor  a cock-boat,  yet,  united  with  others, 
they  hold  secure  the  mightiest  vessel  that  ever  floated  on  the 
ocean.  So  with  testimony.  Look  at  the  number  and  variety 
of  the  witnesses  in  the  present  case.  It  is  possible  that  witnes- 
ses, in  some  cases,  might  be  in  a confederacy,  and  then  their 
number  is  of  no  consequence ; but  when  they  come  from  the 
East  and  the  West,  from  the  North  and  the  South,  no  one  of 
them  knowing  what  the  other  would  testify,  and  having  no  con- 
nection with  each  other,  and  yet  all  testifying  alike, — he  must 
be  an  infidel,  who  refuses  to  give  credit  to  their  statements.  It 
is  by  such  testimony  as  this,  that  men  are  governed  in  common 
life  ; and  a jury  cannot  act  differently,  without  disregarding 
their  oaths.  Now  consider  the  strength  of  the  present  case  in 
this  way.  Here  are  men,  brought  in  sets  from  all  quarters — 
wholly  unconnected — having  no  knowledge  of  each  other,  until . 
they  found  their  names  in  the  same  subpoena — entire  strangers 
— and,  yet,  all  coming  to  the  same  point — all  testifying  to  the 
same  fact — all  agreeing  that  Buzzell  is  one  of  the  men  whom 
they  saw,  on  the  night  of  the  11th  of  August,  engaged  in  the 


13 


destruction  of  the  Ursuline  convent.  Look,  I say,  at  the  as- 
tonishing strength  of  this  evidence.  Judge  Fay  could  not  tell 
that  Buck  would  be  here  as  a witness ; Colonel  Gerry  did  not 
know  of  Judge  Fay  ; Thaxter  never  heard  of  Littlefield  ; Lit- 
tlefield never  heard  of  Logan  ; Logan  never  heard  of  Balfour ; 
and  so  on  with  all  the  rest.  Nothing  but  truth  brings  them 
here  ; nothing  but  the  fact  of  their  having  all  been  at  the  same 
place,  and  seen  the  same  occurrences  take  place. 

Then,  gentlemen,  we  must  despatch  another  matter  connect- 
ed with  this  case — the  discrepancy  of  testimony.  It  is  a rule 
of  law,  that  this  discrepancy  is  the  very  thing  that  entitles  evi- 
dence to  credit.  If  a number  of  men,  stating  themselves  to 
have  heard  a certain  conversation,  repeat  that  conversation  in 
precisely  the  same  words,  you  set  their  statements  down  as  a 
contrivance.  Here  are  half-a-dozen  persons  taking  down  what 
is  said  in  this  Court.  What  they  write,  is,  in  substance,  true 
— but  no  two  of  them  agree  preqisely  in  words.  One  of  the 
most  profound  and  attentive  observers  of  human  nature,  in  allud- 
ing to  human  testimony,  has  spoken  of  it  as  substantial  truth 
under  circumstantial  variety.  Men  do  not  see  exactly  alike, 
because  they  are  not  in  the  same  position.  The  variety  of  de- 
scription is  the  test  of  truth. 

I will  bring  the  matter  to  your  own  judgment.  I am  address- 
ing twelve  Christians.  How  got  you  your  knowlege  of  Chris- 
tianity? From  the  Evangelists.  There  is  one  thing  recorded 
by  those  Evangelists,  about  which  there  can  be  no  doubt.  I 
mean  the  inscription  on  the  cross.  All  the  holy  men,  to  whom 
I have  alluded,  agree  that  there  was  an  inscription,  but  all  differ 
in  relation  to  its  phraseology.  Matthew  says,  the  inscription 
was,  “ This  is  Jesus,  King  of  the  Jews” ; Mark,  “ The  King 
of  the  Jews”  ; Luke,  “ This  is  the  King  of  the  Jews”  ; and 
John,  “ Jesus  of  Nazareth,  King  of  the  Jews.”  And  who, 
that  had  the  happiness  to  believe  there  was  a cross,  ever  had 
the  misery  to  doubt  about  it  .because  of  the  difference  of  the 
phraseology  in  which  the  inscription  is  recorded  ? If,  however, 
the  principle  contended  for  by,  the  learned  counsel  on  the  op- 
posite side,  be  admitted,  you  must  disbelieve  the  sublimest  part 


14 


of  our  religion,  because  there  is  a discrepancy  among  the  wit- 
nesses. I ask  you  to  judge  of  the  testimony  in  this  case,  by 
the  same  rules  that  you  would  apply  to  the  sacred  subject  to 
which  I have  just  called  your  attention.  I ask  you  to  judge 
of  it  as  wise,  honest  and  intelligent  men.  In  these  days  of 
scepticism,  every  thing  may  be  made  a subject  of  doubt.  Some 
doubt  the  existence  of  a Supreme  Creator  ; others,  that  we  live, 
move,  and  have  our  being.  The  days  of  the  heathen  philoso- 
phers have  returned  upon  us.  All  things  are  made  uncertain. 
Ingenuity,  indeed,  may  make  every  thing  cloudy  ; and  it  is 
said  to  be  possible  for  a Yankee  “ to  whittle  any  thing  down 
to  the  little  end  of  nothing.” 

Again,  I ask  you  to  look  at  the  individual  witnesses.  How 
are  you  to  get  testimony  in  any  case?  You  must  take  that  of 
your  fellow  citizens, — and  you  cannot  find  better  men  than  the 
country  produces.  If  we  breed  liars,  we  must  take  them  ; but 
if,  on  the  contrary,  we  raise  men , and  “ souls  are  ripened  in 
our  Northern  sky,”  then  we  may  safely  rely  upon  such  men — 
and  none  are  better  than  the  individuals  who  have  lately  been 
before  you.  According,  however,  to  one  of  my  learned  breth- 
ren in  the  defence,  not  one  honest  witness  has  appeared  upon 
the  stand  ; he  has  fleshed  his  scymetar  upon  every  one  of 
them  ; all — all  are  false,  and  honesty  has  ceased  to  exist 
among  us,  except  in  the  person  of  the  honest  Iago  at  the  bar. 
If  such  a man  as  your  Judge  of  Probate,  who  is  so  strong  a 
witness  for  the  prosecution,  is  to  be  attacked  when  he  takes  the 
stand,  and  you  are  to  be  told  to  discredit  his  testimony  because 
he  is  under  excitement  and  does  not  know  himself,  it  is  vain 
for  any  man  to  attempt  to  escape  the  “ slings  and  arrows” 
which  the  gentleman,  in  the  desperation  of  defence,  hurls  at  us 
all.  If  you  are  to  be  imposed  upon  by  such  arguments  as  these, 
I do  not  see  why  we  should  attempt  to  try  or  decide  upon  any 
case.  I never  expect  to  be  able  to  bring  forward  better  wit- 
nesses than  many  who  have  given  their  testimony  upon  this 
occasion.  You,  gentlemen,  may  be  called  upon  yourselves,  at 
some  future  time,  to  give  evidence  in  a case  of  this  kind.  I 
ask  you  to  protect  yourselves  against  such  insinuations  and 


15 


attacks  as  have  been  made  upon  the  character  of  witnesses 
during  this  trial.  It  is  the  offensiveness  of  the  bar  that  one 
man’s  reputation  is  to  be  impugned  in  order  to  get  another  man 
out  of  a scrape,  and  I ask  you  to  set  your  faces  against  this 
practice — to  put  it  down. 

With  these  remarks  I come  to  the  examination  of  the  testimo- 
ny of  the  witnesses  individually.  And  first,  I take  the  Lady  Su- 
perior, giving  her  that  name,  although  the  opposite  counsel  say 
there  is  no  superior  here.  Gentlemen,  in  a college  there  is  a Pres- 
ident ; in  a school,  a Master ; in  a Court,  a Chief  Justice.  The 
lady  whom  you  saw  here  is  the  Superior,  or  the  head  of  her  Con- 
vent, in  the  same  way  that  you  are  Foreman,  or  head  of 
the  jury.  It  is  said  that  she  was  brought  here  for  effect.  She 
was  so.  She  was  brought  here  to  produce  the  effect  that 
every  honest  and  intelligent  witness  ought  to  produce,  and  no 
other.  She  was  a necessary  witness.  She  was  called  here  to 
prove  that  she  was  the  Superior.  We  had  so  stated  it  in  the 
indictment ; and  had  we  failed  to  produce  her  here,  our  remiss- 
ness would  quickly  have  been  pointed  out  by  the  gentlemen  on 
the  opposite  side.  To  the  two  first  counts  she  is  an  indis- 
pensable witness.  My  learned  friend  says,  she  is  not  to  be 
believed.  Do  not  you  believe  her,  Mr.  Foreman?  She  is 
accused  of  having  told  Mr.  Cutter  “ that  the  Bishop  had 
20,000  of  the  vilest  Irishmen  under  his  control,”  and  she 
acknowledges  (much  as  such  an  acknowledgment  might  be 
supposed  to  operate  against  her),  that  she  said  so,  or  something 
to  that  effect.  And  is  it  wonderful  that  she  should  have  given 
way  to  a momentary  feeling  of  anger.  Religious  woman  as 
she  is,  she  has  human  feelings.  Remember  that  on  Saturday 
previous  she  was  told  that  the  Convent  was  to  be  pulled  down  ; 
that  a paragraph  in  a newspaper  alluding  to  the  escape  of  one 
of  her  family  had  been  put  into  her  hands  by  a stage-driver ; 
that  in  the  abduction  of  this  female  Mr.  Cutter  was  a party ; 
that  she  considered  it  an  unfriendly  and  an  unneighborly  act ; 
that  he  had  not  mentioned  anything  of  it  before  to  her.  Do 
you  think  that  it  was  kind  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Cutter  to  help 
off  this  runaway  nun  ? Do  you  think  it  was  a neighborly  act 


16 


for  Mr.  Cutter  to  assist  in  getting  away  one  of  her  family  with- 
out notifying  her  of  the  fact — spreading  a report  so  that  it 
reached  the  newspapers — and  then  coming  to  ask  her  if  it  was 
true.  Mr.  Foreman,  if  one  of  your  children  had  eloped,  and 
had  been  assisted  to  do  so  by  one  of  your  neighbors  who  after- 
wards got  up  a story  about  it  prejudicial  to  yourself,  would  you 
not  think  such  conduct  unkind  ? Was  not  what  the  Superior  said 
mere  retaliation  ? Was  it  not  the  language  of  nature  and  truth  ? 
“ If  you  pull  down  my  convent,  your  houses  will  also  be  pulled 
down ! If  you  make  an  attack  upon  us  in  consequence  of  our 
religious  opinions,  an  attack  will  be  made  upon  you*on  similar 
grounds.”  And  she  spoke  truly.  If  this  case  be  not  settled 
rightly,  no  one  can  tell  what  consequences  may  ensue.  Re- 
taliatory outrages  may  be  expected.  It  is  human  nature. 
But  has  the  Bishop  ordered  out  his  20,000  Irishmen  ? Where 
are  they  ? I do  not  see  an  Irish  face  here.  On  their  part  all 
is  calm  and  quiet.  Look  at  the  state  of  this  lady.  All  her 
property  gone.  Every  thing  she  was  worth  in  the  world — her 
institution — her  school  consigned  to  the  flames.  You  have 
seen  her  here.  Do  you  think  she  came  into  this  court  with 
malignity  of  heart.  She  had  not  mixed  in  the  world  for 
many  years  before  she  came  from  her  convent  upon  the  present 
occasion,  with  as  much  reluctance  and  alarm  as  would  be  felt 
by  a modest  female  in  appearing  before  you  habited  in  the 
costume  of  her  bed-chamber.  But  an  all-controlling  power 
was  cjperating  upon  her  mind.  Nothing  but  the  sublime  and 
holy  influence  of  religion  could  have  rendered  that  woman  so 
calm,  so  mild  and  so  resigned  as  you  beheld  her.  Her  testimony 
was  corroborated  by  that  of  the  other  nuns,  and  the  counsel 
for  the  defence  had  no  objection  to  make  to  them  but  their 
dress.  I thought,  interested  as  he  is  in  this  case,  that  he  would 
have  obtained  some  correct  information  upon  this  subject — that 
he  -would  have  made  himself  master  of  the  history  of  the  respect- 
able order  of  which  these  wromen  are  members,  before  he  said  a 
word  in  favor  of  the  man  who  wantonly  made  war  upon  it-  They 
have  been  compelled  to  come  here  by  the  lawT,  and  have  come 
in  the  dress  which  they  ordinarily  wear.  They  have  no  other. 


17 


Had  my  learned  friend  taken  the  trouble  to  inquire,  he  would 
have  found  that  the  community  to  which  these  ladies  belong 
took  300  years  ago  the  peculiar  dress  of  the  widows  of  that 
age,  and  have  retained  it  ever  since.  In  the  same  way  that 
our  Quakers  retain  the  form  of  dress  worn  by  their  forefathers 
when  that  sect  was  first  established.  Peculiar  the  dress  cer- 
tainly is,  but  quite  as  modest  and  respectable  as  that  in  which 
the  fashionable  ladies  of  our  day  unveil  their  glowing  beauties 
to  the  gaze  of  all  observers.  I may  also  inform  you  that  there 
is  a vast  difference  in  convents.  The  Ursulines  are  well  known 
to  history  as  able  instructors  of  youth ; they  are  not  mere  reclu- 
ses ; and  when  other  communities  on  the  continent  of  Europe 
were  put  down  by  Napoleon,  the  Ursuline  community  was  spared 
in  consideration  of  the  great  services  they  rendered  to  society, 
and  their  freedom  from  the  objectionable  traits  which  character- 
ized the  economy  of  many  other  orders. 

If  you  believe  the  testimony  of  these  three  female  witnesses, 
the  crime  chargeable  upon  some  one  was  perpetrated  in  all  its 
parts.  I call  upon  you  to  hold  no  compromise  with  your  oaths 
in  this  particular.  Go  for  the  whole,  or  let  the  prisoner  escape. 
If  the  convent  was  broken  and  burned,  it  was  burned  by  a com- 
bination of  individuals,  and  every  man  engaged  in  the  transaction 
is  equally  guilty.  If  the  prisoner  was  present  consenting  to 
the  act,  he  is  as  guilty  as  if  he  had  himself  applied  the  torch. 
In  the  case  of  the  Salem  murder,  Knapp  although  a quarter  of 
a mile  off  when  the  deed  was  committed,  was  condemnfed  and 
punished  as  a murderer.  It  is  not  necessary  that  the  prisoner 
should  have  broken  into  or  set  fire  to  the  building  with  his 
own  hand ; it  is  sufficient  that  he  formed  part  of  the  gang  who 
committed  the  outrage.  To  ascertain  whether  he  was  con- 
cerned, you  must  decide  these  questions : — Was  this  defendant 
at  the  gate?  Was  he  at  the  bonfire?  Was  he  in  the  house? 

It  is  said  this  is  a question  of  identity.  So  it  is.  When  a 
crime  is  committed  by  some  one,  the  question  is — Who  was  it  ? 
Some  crimes  are  commritted  by  one  man — others  by  two  per- 
sons; never  before  by  so  many  individuals  as  in  the  present 
case.  We  suppose  the  prisoner  was  concerned.  I believe  he 


18 


was,  but  I believe  also  that  others  were  connected  with  the 
transaction,  who  urged  him  on  and  are  as  much  to  blame  as  he 
is.  This  man  however,  is  charged  with  being  one  of  the 
active  agents  in  the  affair.  The  principal  question  is,  whether  he 
was  busy  among  the  rest  on  the  night  of  the  11th  August.  It 
is  proved  that  he  was,  by  sixteen  witnesses.  You  trace  him 
from  before  the  offence  was  committed  till  breakfast  time  the  next 
morning, — during  every  moment  of  the  time.  There  is  one 
remarkable  fact  connected  with  this  matter.  These  men 
seemed  to  have  set  the  law  at  defiance,  and  gone  boldly  and 
undisguise dly  to  work.  First,  he  is  seen  by  Messrs.  Fay  and 
Thaxter ; then  Fitz  Cutter  and  Burbank  hear  him  make  use  of 
remarkable  language ; Barrett  and  Sissons  see  him ; then  Coon, 
Gerry,  Phelps,  Littlefield  and  Hogan  see  him.  These  wit- 
nesses bring  him  to  about  the  time  when  the  bonfire  was 
expiring.  Then  comes  Buck,  and  he  swears  to  him  as  being  on 
the  outside ; then  Logan,  who  saw  him  in  the  house  ; then  Buck 
sees  him  again  within ; and  lastly,  there  is  the  evidence  of 
Parker  and  Thomas,  the  former  of  whom  saw  him  at  the  en- 
gine while  the  convent  was  in  flames,  and  the  latter  on  the 
following  morning  at  breakfast  time.  If  this  evidence  will 
stand  the  test  of  scrutiny,  where  is  the  doubt?  The  pris- 
oner is  guilty  unless  Judge  Fay  and  the  others  have  all  testified 
incorrectly.  If  the  honest  witnesses  are  mistaken,  and  oth- 
ers are  liars,  you  can  never  hope  to  get  any  evidence  upon 
which  to  found  a verdict ; but  if  you  will  believe  human  testi- 
mony, the  man  at  the  bar  was  at  the  fire.  Upon  the  subject 
of  time  as  connected  with  this  matter,  I would  ask, — how  are 
we  to  ascertain  with  certainty  at  what  hour  these  witnesses  got 
to  the  convent.  By  watches  ? “ None  go  just  alike  but 

each  believes  his  own.”  I suppose  you  know  that  all  persons 
who  receive  Irish  boarders  keep  their  clocks  an  hour  too  fast, 
for  the  purpose  of  getting  their  lodgers  up  in  time  for  the  rail- 
road. When  therefore,  one  of  these  men  tells  you  at  what 
time  a certain  circumstance  happened,  he  either  guesses  or 
goes  by  one  of  these  clocks.  You  saw  a nun  faint  away  in 
Court.  Suppose  you  were  now  severally  to  mark  down  the 


19 


time  when  she  did  so — each  guessing  what  the  time  was,  would 
you  have  been  within  15  minutes  of  each  other.  One  of  the 
learned  counsel  on  the  other  side  informed  you  that  lie  should 
not  impeach  the  character  of  Logan,  though  he  afterwards  did 
so.  At  what  time,  gentlemen,  did  he  say  this  ? We  can 
guess,  and  that  is  all.  How  long  was  Buck  on  the  stand  ? 
You  all  know  that  he  was  on  the  stand  ; but  gentlemen,  although 
you  are  twelve  Yankees,  you  cannot  guess  any  thing  near 
the  truth.  You  would  vary  as  to  the  length  of  time ; there 
is  no  such  thing  as  being  certain  in  this  particular,  unless 
indeed,  you  have  some  accurate  instrument  to  take  an  ob- 
servation. Nothing  is  so  uncertain  as  this  evidence  of 
time.  The  only  circumstance  of  time  in  this  case  which  we 
can  calculate  positively,  is  that  of  twilight.  It  seems  that  on 
the  night  in  question,  the  sun  set  at  eight  minutes  after  seven, 
and  twilight  ended  at  seven  minutes  before  nine.  We  know 
that  people  do  not  commonly  light  candles  much  before  twi* 
light  is  out.  Mr.  Thaxter  says,  he  heard  rumors  in  relation  to 
the  convent,  at  Watertown,  while  he  was  at  tea;  that  he  set 
out  in  his  chaise,  called  upon  Fay,  and  they  then  both  rode 
down  to  the  convent.  “ They  stopped  at  Mr.  Cutter’s  by  the 
way,  and  found  candles  lighted.”  This  proves  that  it  must 
have  been  near  nine  o’clock.  It  was  probably  past  nine  when 
Fay  and  Thaxter  got  to  the  convent  gate.  If  you  believe 
this,  we  have  a clue  to  the  whole  matter.  The  later  you  fix 
this  time,  the  more  certain  becomes  the  prisoner’s  guilt.  All 
difficulty  vanishes  if  you  suppose  that  Fay  arrived  after  twi- 
light. Judge  Fay  and  Mr.  Thaxter  say,  they  saw  Buzzell  at 
the  gate.  Burbank  and  Cutter  could  not  see  him  because 
it  was  dark.  Barrett  and  Sissons  heard  him  and  saw  him. 
Coon,  Gerry  and  Phelps  saw  him,  and  this  brings  him  up  to 
about  ten  o’clock.  Littlefield  and  Hogan  saw  him  afterwards. 
Now,  if  the  fact  is  as  they  state  it,  Buzzell  was  there. 
You,  gentlemen,  do  not  doubt  their  veracity.  The  only  ques- 
tion is,  are  they  certain  as  to  the  identity  of  the  prisoner. 
Judge  Fay  knew  him  as  a low,  dirty  fellow,  using  filthy  lan- 
guage in  reply  to  a question  which  he  (Fay)  put  to  him,  and 


20 


the  Judge  says,  Buzzell  is  the  man.  I say,  he  swears  it.  For 
how  does  any  man  swear  to  the  identity  of  another?  If  I 
met  you,  Mr.  Foreman,  in  the  street,  I should  say,  I think 
that  is  the  Foreman — it  would  be  my  opinion.  Fay  speaks 
this  with  regard  to  Buzzell.  His  opinion  is  not  a sudden  one, 
but  formed  on  deliberation  and  with  care.  When  you  meet  an 
individual  whom  you  have  only  once  seen,  or  who  has  returned 
after  a long  absence,  you  may  at  first  doubt  his  identity ; but 
you  look  at  him  again,  and  are  certain.  Are  you  less  certain 
because  you  doubted  at  first,  and  is  your  testimony  entitled  to 
less  credit,  or  to  more?  Judge  Fay  saw  the  prisoner  at 
Charlestown,  two  days  after  seeing  him  at  the  convent  gate. 
He  was  then  in  his  brickmaker’s  dress,  and  Fay  knew  him 
directly  ; had  no  doubt  about  the  matter — heard  his  voice,  and 
was  very  certain.  But  it  is  said  to  be  impossible  that  Fay 
should  distinguish  him  by  his  voice.  I want  to  know  why  ? 
Does  not  the  human  voice  furnish  a certain  method  of  ascer- 
taining identity  ? Judge  Fay  heard  him  talk  at  Charlestown — 
heard  him  speak  angrily ; for  the  prisoner  was  irritated  at 
the  testimony  which  was  there  given  against  him.  Judge  Fay 
heard  him,  and  was  satisfied  he  knew  him. 

But  it  is  said  that  the  prisoner  had  a cold,  and  was  so  hoarse 
that  his  voice  could  not  be  recognised.  This  whole  argument 
is  based  on  error.  It  is  a mistake  to  say  that  a man’s  voice 
cannot  be  known  because  he  has  a cold.  I have  no  doubt  that 
any  of  my  friends  who  should  hear  my  voice  at  this  moment, 
would  feel  satisfied  as  to  who  was  speaking,  although  they 
might  not  be  able  to  see  me.  [The  Attorney  General  was 
laboring  under  a severe  cold.]  It  is  not  true  that  hoarseness 
changes  a man’s  voice  so  entirely  that  it  cannot  be  recognised. 
I appeal  to  the  experience  of  the  present  moment. 

We  come  next  to  the  evidence  of  Mr.  Thaxter.  He  did 
not  know  that  Mr.  F ay  had  identified  this  man ; but  yet,  he 
comes  into  court  and  says  the  prisoner  is  the  individual  whom 
he  saw  at  the  gate.  He  comes  to  this  conclusion  from  all  things 
put  together ; he  does  not  form  his  opinion  from  any  one  par- 
ticular feature — from  height,  breadth  of  shoulder,  or  the  fact 


21 


of  the  prisoner’s  having  a thin  nose  ; but  from  his  tout  ensem- 
ble— the  whole  of  his  appearance.  Mr.  Thaxter  hesitat- 
ed a little  at  first — he  did  not  like  to  express  an  opinion  until 
he  was  perfectly  certain,  knowing  the  sort  of  cross-examina- 
tion to  which  he  would  be  subjected  by  the  defence ; but, 
having  made  up  his  mind,  he  swears  to  you  that  he  has  no  doubt 
this  is  the  man  he  saw  at  the  gate.  It  is  said,  Mr.  Thaxter 
scarcely  ever  heard  the  prisoner’s  voice  after  the  interview  at 
the  gate.  Why,  he  heard  him  say  “ challenge  ” no  less  than 
eighteen  times,  and  “ no  objection  ” several  times  more.  Mr. 
Thaxter  heard  enough  to  satisfy  himself  in  this  respect. 

Mr.  Fitz  Cutter  was  sitting  at  his  window,  and  heard  some- 
body give  a vulgar  answer  to  Fay.  He  could  not  see  who  it 
was,  but  tells  you  he  has  no  doubt  it  was  Buzzell.  And  if  he 
does  not  doubt,  why  should  you  ? Mr.  Cutter  is  not  a very 
swift  witness  for  the  government.  But  there  is  a circumstance 
connected  with  this  question  of  voice,  that  places  the  whole 
matter  beyond  a doubt.  Lorenzo  Burbank,  a wagon  driver, 
tells  you  that  he  went  to  Cutter’s  the  next  morning,  and  asked 
him,  “ if  he  heard  JOHN  BUZZELL  give  that  dirty  answer 
to  Judge  Fay?”  Now  this  is  proof  incontestible. 

The  next  witness  is  George  R.  Barrett.  He  has  no  con- 
nection with  Fay  and  Thaxter;  and  in  all  probability,  never 
saw  Cutter  or  Burbank  before  he  saw  them  in  this  court.  He 
is  a boy,  employed  in  a counting  room  at  Boston.  He  and 
Sissons  heard  that  the  Convent  was  to  be  pulled  down,  and 
they  went  to  see  what  was  doing.  He  was  at  the  gate,  saw 
the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  and  says  he  is  the  man  who  gave  the 
vulgar  answer  to  Judge  Fay.  With  the  natural  curiosity  of  a 
boy,  he  went  up  within  a foot  of  the  man,  and  looked  him  full 
in  the  face ; he  wished  to  know  who  it  was  who  had  the  bold- 
ness to  make  such  a reply  to  the  Judge  of  Probate.  He  had 
no  idea  that  Buzzell  would  be  brought  up;  but  he  looked 
steadfastly  at  him,  and  now  he  says,  as  Nathan  to  David, 
“ thou  art  the  mail”  If  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  the  hon- 
esty of  Barrett,  the  fact  is  fixed.  But  driven  from  pillar  to 
post  by  the  cross-examination  of  the  prisoner’s  counsel,  he  is 


22 


at  last  forced  into  what  is  said  to  be  a contradiction,  and  says 
that  the  man  at  the  convent  gate  had  whiskers.  And  the 
counsel  for  the  defence  maintain  that  Buzzell  had  no  whiskers 
on  the  night  of  the  fire  ; but  that  another  man  like  Buzzell  was 
furnished  with  .those  appendages.  Suppose  Barrett  to  be  mis- 
taken in  this  particular.  Is  it  one  of  those  errors  that  should 
destroy  the  credibility  of  a witness,  or  is  it  one  of  those  varia- 
tions to  which  I have  previously  alluded,  and  which  establish  a 
witness’  truth.  Barrett  did  not  mention  the  whiskers  as  a dis- 
tinguishing trait  by  which  he  recognised  the  prisoner;  he 
knew  him  by  his  general  appearance — his  boisterous  manner — 
and  the  filthy  answer  he  gave  to  Judge  Fay.  But  is  Barrett 
mistaken?  One  of  my  friends  of  the  defence  (Farley),  is 
pretty  smooth-faced,  but  yet  he  has  whiskers ; and  if  the  priso- 
ner had  as  many  hairs  on  his  face  as  the  gentlemen  to  whom  I 
allude,  he  may  certainly  be  said  to  have  worn  whiskers.  In 
point  of  fact  then,  he  had  whiskers.  Coburn,  the  officer  who 
arrested  him,  says  he  had  ear-lochs.  Consider,  then,  how  far 
a man  may  safely  distinguish  between  ear-locks  and  whiskers. 
In  the  hurry  of  the  moment  and  the  obscurity  of  the  evening, 
Barrett  might  easily  have  mistaken  ear-locks  for  whiskers. 
Buzzell  may  now  make  his  whiskers  ear-locks  to  the  eye,  by 
simply  pulling  up  his  shirt  collar.  At  the  recent  trial  of  the 
pirates,  a whole  day  was  consumed  in  ascertaining  whether  the 
binding  of  a man’s  shoes  was  such  as  described  by  a witness, 
and  in  the  end  the  witness  was  found  to  have  been  mistaken ; 
but  did  the  jurors  when  they  retired  to  consult  upon  their  verdict 
in  that  case,  consider  this  variance  of  any  importance  ? They 
did  not.  The  fact  is,  counsel  are  up  to  things  of  this  kind  ; 
and  when  rowing  against  wind  and  tide,  they  avail  themselves 
of  a trivial  variance  such  as  the  present,  for  the  erection  of 
elaborate  and  ingenious,  but  groundless  and  sophistical  theories. 
You  find,  that  no  other  witness  in  the  case  can  tell  whether  the 
prisoner  had  whiskers  or  not,  although  they  all  identify  him, 
thus  proving  that  whiskers  formed  no  item  in  their  means  of 
recognition.  This  variance  is  one  of  those  circumstances  that 
do  not  go  to  shake  a witness’  testimony,  but  rather  to  confirm 


23 


it.  I dismiss,  however,  the  subject  of  whiskers.  I might 
dismiss  also,  the  testimony  of  Barrett,  and  then  there  would 
remain  more  than  sufficient  evidence  to  prove  the  guilt  of  the 
defendant.  But  I call  upon  you  not  to  do  so.  I submit  to 
you  that  Barrett  did  not  form  his  opinion  as  to  the  identity  of 
Buzzell  by  reference  to  the  whiskers  of  that  individual.  He 
drew  his  conclusions  from  the  prisoner’s  whole  appearance. 
And  there  is  no  mistaking  this  man  ; he  might  be  picked  out 
from  a thousand ; his  tout  ensemble  leaves  an  impression  upon 
the  mind  never  to  be  forgotten. 

Next  comes  the  testimony  of  Sissons.  He  thinks  the  pris- 
oner is  the  man  he  saw  at  the  convent  gate,  but  will  not 
be  certain.  He  does  not  know  whether  the  man  wore  whis- 
kers or  not.  They  certainly  could  not  have  been  large  and 
conspicuous,  or  some  of  the  witnesses  would  have  noticed 
them. 

Then  we  have  John  Coon,  a foreigner,  who,  the  gentlemen 
politely  tells  us,  comes  under  the  denomination  of  imported 
testimony,  which  however  they  use  themselves.  Coon  is  a 
reluctant  witness.  He  tells  you  he  only  spoke  at  his  shop,  of 
having  seen  Buzzell,  and  did  not  expect  that  what  he  said  would 
be  carried  out.  Coon  knew  Buzzell.  Not  by  any  peculiar 
marks,  but  in  the  same  way  that  you  know  your  family.  It  is 
almost  impossible  for  a man  to  say  by  what  he  knows  his  own 
children.  I know  you,  gentlemen ; should  know  you  if  I 
met  you  in  the  street ; but  I could  not  if  I were  asked,  state 
the  particular  features  which  enable  me  to  recognise  you. 

It  is  difficult  to  explain  a simple  idea  to  another’s  mind,  be- 
cause there  is  nothing  more  simple  by  which  to  explain  it. 
Thus,  we  can  give  a blind  man  no  idea  of  color,  or  a deaf 
man,  ex  nativitate , any  idea  of  sound.  The  nearest  which 
any  philosopher  has  come  to  this,  is  found  in  the  answer  of  the 
blind  man  who  said,  after  a day’s  effort  to  understand  the 
matter,  that  the  color  of  scarlet  must  be  very  much  like  the 
sound  of  a trumpet.  So  it  is  with  all  primary  ideas,  and  with  the 
identity  of  individuals.  We  cannot  tell  how  we  get  the  ideas 
that  enable  us  to  distinguish  persons ; all  we  can  say  is,  that 


24 


we  know  them.  Until  after  the  last  judgment,  when  new  fac- 
ulties may  be  given  to  us,  this  is  all  we  shall  ever  be  able  to  do. 
If  a jury  will  not  believe  a man,  when  he  says  of  another,  “ I 
know  him,”  it  is  idle  ever  to  adduce  testimony  in  a Court  of 
Justice. 

Coon  had  known  Buzzell,  he  tells  you,  for  more  than  a year, 
and  saw  him  go  up  the  convent  avenue  on  the  night  of  the 
fire ; saw  him  with  the  mob  who  were  shouting  before,  and  ran 
up  the  avenue  to,  the  building,  and  abused  the  Superior. 
Coon  never  meant  to  tell  this — he  did  not  wish  to  tell  it — but 
being  put  on  oath,  he  yields  like  an  honest  man,  his  regard  for 
the  prisoner,  to  the  obligation  of  his  oath. 

Next,  we  have  Gerry, — and,  if  you  believe  him,  there  can 
be  no  doubt  of  the  guilt  of  Buzzell.  Had  I time,  I would  de- 
vote a quarter  of  an  hour  to  some  remarks  upon  the  manner  in 
which  this  witness  was  treated  on  the  stand,  by  the  counsel  for 
the  prisoner — upon  the  cruelty  exercised  towards  him.  1 hold 
the  treatment  received  by  Col.  Gerry,  a few  days  ago,  to  be 
the  most  perfect  piece  of  violence  ever  perpetrated  in  a court 
of  justice.  Elbridge  Gerry,  the  name  of  the  witness,  is  a name, 
which,  to  me  personally,  is  entitled  to  the  high  est  respect ; 
but  the  present  witness,  who  bears  it,  I have  never  before  had 
the  pleasure  to  see,  or  know.  This  witness  picked  up,  out  of 
mere  curiosity,  two  or  three  trifling  prints  (children’s  pictures,) 
gthat  were  lying  on  the  ound,  near  where  he  wTas  standing. 
He  carried  them  home — showed  them,  as  curiosities,  to  every 
one  who  came  to  his  house — made  no  secret  of  the  matter — 
and,  for  this,  he  has  been  represented  as  a thief ; and,  I believe, 
one  of  the  gentlemen  on  the  other  side  (Mr.  F arley,)  insinuated 
that  part  of  the  one  thousand  dollars,  stolen  from  the  Superior’s 
desk,  might  have  found  its  way  into  Col.  Gerry’s  pockets.  If, 
gentlemen  of  the  jury,  you  believe  these  insinuations  against 
Gerry,  so  wholly  gratuitous  and  imaginary,  and  do  not  believe 
the  evidence  which  has  been  adduced  against  the  prisoner,  you 
will  “ strain  at  a gnat,  and  swallow  a camel.”  Gentlemen,  I 
protest  against  this  outrage  on  Col.  Gerry.  It  is  in  the  worst 
style  of  the  worst  sort  of  the  offensiveness  of  the  Bar,  and  I call 


25 


on  you  to  protect  yourselves,  by  protecting  him.  But  I dismiss 
this  subject,  believing  Col.  Gerry’s  character  to  be  too  well 
known  to  be  injured  by  the  coarse  remarks  of  my  learned 
friends ; and  ask  you,  in  God’s  name,  what  possible  motive  these 
witnesses  can  have  to  perjure  themselves,  or  to  induce  them  to 
seek  Buzzell’s  life  ? Gerry  has  a peculiar  faculty,*  and  he  tells 
you,  in  the  most  positive  and  confident  terms,  that  he  saw  Buz- 
zed busy  among  the  mob  ; says  he  could  distinguish  his  features, 
with  as  much  certainty,  as  he  could  those  of  a person  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Court. 

Now  comes  Edward  Phelps.  Nobody  came  unscathed 
from  the  hands  of  my  learned  brethren — none  escaped  without 
a shot  of  some  kind — and  to  this  witness  it  was  objected,  that 
he  said  he  would  not  criminate  himself.  He  was  asked,  if  he 
was  a thief,  and  he  replied,  indignantly,  “ No  ! and  if  I was,  I 
would  not  criminate  myself,  by  telling  you.”  I can  only  say, 
continued  Mr.  Attorney,  that  if  these  attempts  of  the  gentlemen 
on  the  other  side  are  successful,  trial  by  jury  will  very  soon  be 
brought  into  contempt.  Phelps  corroborates  Gerry,  and  identi- 
fies Buzzell. 

Littlefield  is  the  next  witness,  and  he  corroborates  Gerry, 
excepting  in  relation  to  the  manner  of  bringing  the  tar  barrel. 
Gerry  says,  the  prisoner  brought  the  barrel  on  his  shoulder,  and 
Littlefield,  that  he  carried  it  in  front  of  his  person.  Is  this  a 
contradiction  ? The  apparent  difference  is  easily  reconciled. 
Both  witnesses  did  not  see  the  prisoner  at  the  same  moment. 
He  had,  probably,  a mile  to  go  for  the  tar  barrel,  and  did  not 
carry  it  in  the  same  position  the  whole  way.  When  Littlefield 
saw  him,  he  had  it  in  front,  and  when  Gerry  saw  him,  he  bore  it 
on  his  shoulder.  Where  is  the  inconsistency  ? It  is  in  the 
argument  of  the  learned  gentlemen.  The  witnesses  do  not  say 
that  they  both  saw  the  man  at  the  same  moment. 

This  brings  us  up  to  the  tar  barrel  affair.  He  is  seen  busy  in 

* The  Attorney  General  alluded  to  Col.  Gerry’s  sporting  capability.  He, 
(Col.  G.)  stated  on  the  stand,  that  he  could  tell, in  the  night-time,  the  names 
of  the  various  birds  that  rose  before  him. 

4 


26 


making  the  bonfire,  and,  when  this  signal-fire  is  lighted,  and  the 
gathering  multitude  of  rioters  assemble,  and  all  is  ready,  where 
did  he  go  ? Where  was  he  while  the  convent  was  being  sack- 
ed ? He  was  not  seen,  at  that  time,  by  any  witness,  but  Buck 
and  Logan.  This  strikes  me  as  a fact  of  immense  importance. 
He  is  not  seen  any  where  out  of  the  convent,  at  this  time,  when, 
they  say,  he  was  within.  But  when  the  building  is  in  flames, 
and  all  are  forced  to  leave  it,  the  prisoner  is  again  seen,  by  Jes- 
se Templeton  and  Asa  D.  Parker.  When  all  is  over,  he 
comes  down  to  the  engine,  and  is  there  asked  to  sing  the  Io 
Triumphe,  or  the  Jim  Crow  of  the  mob. 

Now,  here  is  a chain  of  evidence,  every  link  of  which  you 
may  ring,  and  it  sounds  truly.  It  is  without  flaw — there  is  no 
gainsaying  it,  but  by  denying  the  truth  of  all  human  testimony. 

Jesse  Templeton  is  brought  here,  and  says,  that  he  took 
gin  and  molasses  with  Buzzell,  at  Ford’s  store,  on  the  night  of 
the  fire.  They  would  have  this  an  alibi.  They  say,  that  Buz- 
zell could  not  have  been  at  the  store,  and  at  the  fire,  at  one  and 
the  same  time.  But  he  went  from  the  shop  to  the  house,  then 
to  the  gate,  and  got  there,  as  already  stated.  Fay  was  then  at 
the  gate,  where  he  came,  thrusting  himself  in,  and  exclaiming^ 
boisterously,  that  he  was  the  man  who  whipped  their  Irishman. 
So  far  from  being  a contradiction,  it  is  a coincidence.  It  proves, 
that,  after  leaving  work,  he  took  gin — fit  preparation  for  the 
outrage  he  was  about  to  commit — then  went  towards  his  house, 
and  afterwards  to  the  gate.  Azariah  Holmes  says,  he  saw  him 
at  Kelley’s  house,  at  nine,  by  his  (Holmes’,)  watch.  The 
prisoner’s  counsel  would  have  us  believe,  that  all  this  was  meas- 
ured by  “ Shrewsbury  clock,”  instead  of  the  “ turnips”  these 
men  carry.  When  Buzzell  came  from  Ford’s,  he  might  have 
stopped  a little  time  at  his  boarding  house,  and  then  gone  to 
the  Convent  gate.  There  is  not  the  slightest  inconsistency  in 
this.  He  had  to  pass  by  his  boarding  house,  on  his  way  to  the 
gate,  and  it  is  quite  natural  that  he  should  have  stopped  there 
for  a few  moments,  and  been  seen,  as  stated  by  one  of  the  pre- 
vious witnesses.  Or  he  might  have  gone  there  after  the  inter- 
view with  Fay.  his,  however,  is  not  my  view  of  the  case* 


27 


1 believe  he  was  first  at  F ord’s,  then  at  Kelley’s,  and  next  at 
the  Convent  gate.  This  explains  the  testimony  of  his  brother, 
who  might  have  seen  him  sitting  on  the  grass,  as  stated,  either 
before,  or  after,  he  was  seen  by  Judge  F ay.  I beg  you,  gen- 
tlemen, to  observe  these  coincidences.  Judge  Fay  got  to  the 
Convent  at  a certain  time.  Runey  comes,  and  the  crowd  of 
people  at  the  gate  disperse.  The  children  at  the  nunnery  go 
to  bed,  and  there  is  an  interval  of  an  hour’s  quietness,  at  the 
expiration  of  which,  the  prisoner  was  seen  to  go  up  to  the  gate. 
He  might  have  gone  back,  after  his  conversation  with  Fay, 
been  in  Kelley’s  yard  for  half  an  hour,  and  still  in  time  to  fetch 
the  tar-barrels  for  the  bonfire.  This  is  the  identification  as  to 
time,  and,  if  I am  not  deceived,  it  is  perfect.  There  is  no  in- 
consistency in  any  part  of  it. 

I now  proceed  to  the  identification  by  circumstances.  No 
one  doubts  there  was  a man  at  the  Convent  gate,  who  had 
distinguishing  marks  about  him.  No  one  doubts  that  this 
man  spoke  to  Judge  Fay,  and  gave  that  gentleman  a vul- 
gar name  as  his  own.  He  said,  also,  that  he  had  licked 
their  Irishman,  and  called  himself  “old  R.”  or  Barrett 
.and  Sisson  tell  you  what  is  not  true.  Who  then  is  “ old 
R.”?  It  is  the  common  nickname  of  the  prisoner.  I will  not 
detain  you  on  this  point.  To  a greater  or  less  extent,  it  was 
known  to  several  of  the  witnesses,  and  one  of  the  swiftest  wit- 
nesses for  the  Defendant  says,  that  one  of  the  Buzzells  was  so 
called,  and  David  Kelley  says,  he  has  heard  him  call  himself 
by  that  name.  This  man  was  also  large  and  stout ; he 
was  in  his  shirt  sleeves,  had  a white  tarpaulin  hat,  clay  on  his 
clothes,  looked  like  a brickmaker,  and  made  threats ; finally, 
went  down  to  Runey’s  wagon.  There  are  eight  particular  cir- 
cumstances by  which  this  man,  whoever  he  was,  is  known  ; viz. 
he  gave  a vulgar  name  to  Judge  Fay ; licked  an  Irishman  ; cal- 
led himself  “ old  R.”  ; was  a large,  tall  man  ; was  in  his  shirt 
sleeves,  and  had  a tarpaulin  hat;  w7as  a brickmaker;  made 
threats  that  the  convent  should  come  down  ; and,  when  Judge 
Fay  left,  went  down  to  Runey’s  wagon.  Now  you  are  to 
inquire,  what  man  answers  to  these  marks.  The  prisoner  con- 
forms to  them  in  every  particular.  He  was  the  man  who  gave 


28 


the  vulgar  answer ; the  man  who  licked  their  Irishman  ; who 
called  himself  “ old  R.”  ; who  was  in  his  shirt  sleeves  ; he  was 
a brickmaker  ; he  made  threats ; and,  finally,  went  down  to 
Runey’s  wagon. 

But  there  is  a man  who  says  he  knows  Buzzell,  and  saw  an 
individual,  whom  he  took  for  Buzzell,  on  the  night  of  the  fire, 
but  afterwards  found  he  was  mistaken.  This  is  to  say,  that 
there  was  another  tall  man  at  the  fire  besides  Buzzell.  You 
cannot  get  an  hundred  men  together,  without  finding  a tall  man 
among  them.  But  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  is  not  identified  by 
his  tallness.  Smith  says,  he  thought  it  was  Buzzell,  but  after- 
wards found  it  was  not  him.  Suppose  it  to  be  so,  how  does  it 
weaken  the  Government’s  case  ? It  only  shows  that  somebody 
like  Buzzell  was  also  at  the  fire.  Will  you  discredit  the  host 
of  witnesses  you  have  heard,  because  Smith  happened  to  see  a 
man,  whom  he  mistook  for  Buzzell  ? But  he  might  have  seen 
Buzzell;  the  latter  might  have  retired  into  the  crowd,  and 
Smith  might  have  spoken  to  another  person.  It  is  an  important 
fact  that  no  man  ever  comes  into  court  with  a direct  perjury. 
The  flattering  unction  such  a man  lays  to  his  soul  is  equivoca- 
tion. He  never  dares  to  raise  his  hand  to  God,  with  a direct 
falsehood  upon  his  lips  ; but  equivocates,  and  “ palters  with  us 
in  a double  sense.”  When  Smith  swears  he  saw  a man  whom 
he  thought  was  Buzzell,  he,  perhaps,  speaks  truly  ; but  he  does 
not  say,  that  the  man  he  spoke  to,  was  the  same  man  he  so 
supposed  to  be  Buzzell.  And  why  are  you  now  called  upon 
to  give  this  man  implicit  credence  ? Is  it  because  he  says,  that, 
after  this  iniquitous  outrage,  he  held  his  peace  ? He  knew  all 
these  brickmakers,  and  was  asked  about  them  before  the  Bos- 
ton Committee,  but  he  would  give  no  information.  They  pro- 
ceeded to  investigate  this  matter ; they  wanted  to  know,  not 
only  who  did  the  mischief,  but  who  were  present  at  the  fire,  in 
order  that  information  might  be  obtained  from  them.  This 
young  man  was  sent  for  ; he  was  inquired  of ; but  he  is  dumb 
as  the  tomb.  He  will  not  tell,  because,  as  he  says,  he  is  afraid 
of  getting  people  into  trouble.  He  was  there  himself,  and 
.he  was  called  before  the  committee,  but  he  did  not  get  into 


29 


trouble.  If  he  knew  the  makers  of  this  mischief,  he  would  not  get 
them  into  trouble.  He  consents  to  the  mischief.  His  secrecy  is 
strange,  and  it  will  be  well  for  him  if  the  grand  jury  do  not  think 
so.  Any  man  who  has  knowledge  of  the  commission  of  an  act  of 
villainy,  and  of  the  names  of  the  offenders,  and  refuses  to  impart 
that  knowledge,  is  guilty  of  a misdemeanor.  When  the  Governor, 
and  the  magistrates  of  Charlestown,  issued  their  offer  of  reward  for 
information,  it  became  the  duty  of  every  good  citizen,  to  tell  all  he 
knew  about  the  matter  ; not  for  the  sake  of  the  reward,  but  to  fur- 
ther the  ends  of  justice.  The  Court  will  tell  you  it  is  misprision 
of  felony  to  conceal  the  names  of  any  concerned,  and  that  that 
offence  puts  every  man  committing  it,  in  danger  of  the  state 
prison.  This  young  man  came  upon  the  stand  to  publish  his 
own  conduct.  I leave  you,  therefore,  to  decide  upon  the  degree 
of  consideration  which  ought  to  be  given  to  his  subsequent  tes- 
timony. 

The  counsel  for  the  prisoner  tell  us  we  should  have  sent  for 
this  individual  to  identify  the  prisoner.  A pretty  course  that 
would  have  been,  when  he  had  already  declared  to  the  Com- 
mittee, that  he  would  not  point  out  any  of  the  offenders,  although 
he  knew  them.  Some  of  the  statements  made  by  Smith,  I 
doubt  not,  are  true ; but  you  are  to  decide  if  he  keeps  a lit- 
eral truth  on  his  lips,  ;.while  he  gives  you  a substantial  false- 
hood. Suppose  he  did  see  a man  he  thought  was 

Buzzell,  and  afterwards  found  it  was  not  him ; is  that 

circumstance  to  do  away  the  testimony  of  Gerry,  Fay,  and 
all  the  others,  who  tell  you  they  did  see  him  ? You  cannot 
expect  to  find  a capital  ease  without  some  difficulty  of  this  kind. 
If  there  were  no  difficulty,  you,  gentlemen,  would  not  be  sitting 
where  you  are.  The  constable  would  do  as  well  as  twelve  men. 
It  is  your  sacred  duty  to  look  to  this  matter ; not  to  be  deceived ; 
not  to  allow  these  double-dealing  men  to  influence  you.  Do  not 
expect  that  you  are  always  to  have  the  current  in  your  favor, 
or  that  the  first  rock  is  to  make  shipwreck  of  the  case. 

The  gentlemen  would  have  you  believe  that  the  tall,  seafaring 
man,  with  large  whiskers,  was  mistaken  for  Buzzell,  throughout 


30 


the  whole  affair ; and  yet,  they  tell  ^you  that  this  man  had  on  a 
coat,  which  he  took  off  and  threw  upon  the  engine,  at  the  time 
the  convent  was  in  flames,  while  Judge  Fay  tells  you  positively, 
that  the  man  he  saw  at  the  gate  was  long  before  in  his  shirt 
sleeves.  The  whole  character  of  the  man  seen  by  Fay, 
was  that  of  a brickmaker,  and  not  a seaman.  This  brickmaker, 
who  gave  a filthy  answer  to  Judge  Fay,  said,  also,  he  licked  an 
Irishman,  and,  in  connection  with  this,  remarked,  that  “ they 
knew  him  up  there,  and  would  know  more  of  him  by  and  by.” 
Now  this  individual  was  a man  of  peculiar  size  and  character, 
and  it  will  not  do  to  talk  of  Tom,  Dick  and  Harry,  in  relation 
to  the  whipping  spoken  of.  This  man  was  a man  “ whom  the 
convent  people  knew,  and  of  whom  they  would  know  more.” 
Justice  Soley,  Drs.  Thompson  and  Rossiter,  say,  that  he  was 
whipped,  and  there  never  was  but  one  Irish  domestic  at  the 
convent  whipped.  Who  whipped  him  ? The  prisoner  at  the 
bar.  Rossiter  swears  that  Buzzell  whipped  him,  and  Stearns, 
also,  swears  that  he  saw  the  brutal  injury  inflicted.  This 
changes  the  burden  of  proof,  from  the  government  to  the  defend- 
ant. If  a man,  at  a certain  time,  says  he  did  a certain  thing, 
and  the  man,  so  saying,  is  distinguished  by  marks  and  numbers, 
and,  if,  when  called  to  answer,  the  prisoner  answers  to  these 
marks  and  numbers,  he  must,  to  get  clear  of  the  fact,  find  just 
such  a man  as  himself,  who  answers  to  such  marks  and  numbers. 
That  other  Irishmen  may  have  been  whipped  by  brickmakers  is 
true.  The  gentlemen  on  the  opposite  have  all  the  brickmakers  in 
Charlestown  within  reach  of  a process  ; the  whole  Treasury  of 
the  Commonwealth  is  at  their  command,  to  procure  the  atten- 
dance of  a witness  of  this  kind,  and  if  such  an  one  could  have 
been  found,  you  would  have  seen  him  on  the  stand.  It  is  for 
the  prisoner  to  prove,  that  another  man  than  he  spoke  to  Judge 
Fay  at  the  gate,  and  whipped  an  Irish  domestic  of  the  convent, 
and  called  himself  “old  R.”  The  burden  of  proof  rests  upon  him. 
The  books  are  full  of  instances  of  this  kind.  One  man’s  sword  is 
found  sticking  in  the  body  of  another,  and  the  former  is  seen  run- 
ning away.  Now  it  is  possible  that  the  sword  of  the  person  run- 
nning  away  might  have  been  stolen,  and  used  to  commit  the  mur- 


31 


der;  but  it  is  for  him  to  prove  this.  So  in  the  present  case.  The 
prisoner  has  to  prove  that  another  brickmaker  whipped  one  of  the 
convent|  Irishmen.  That  the  man  at  the  gate  did  allude  to  an  Irish- 
man at  the  convent,  cannot  be  doubted.  It  does  not  rest  on  the  tes- 
timony of  Fay  alone.  Thaxter  corroborates  Fay,  and  swears 
that  what  the  prisoner  said,  was  in  allusion  to  the  convent  peo- 
ple. So,  also,  is  the  testimony  of  Barrett  and  Sisson. 

I ask  you,  gentlemen,  not  to  suffer  yourselves  to  be  frightened 
by  possibilities.  If  we  suffer  possibilities  to  take  the  place  of 
probabilities,  we  shall  never  get  along  in  any  case.  When  a 
man  says  he  did  a thing,  and  we  prove  that  he  did  it,  there  is 
conclusive  evidence.  He  must  show  that  we  are  mistaken. 
In  this  case,  he  must  show  a brickmaker,  in  his  shirt  sleeves, 
speaking  to  Fay,  at  the  convent  gate,  who  whipped  one  of  the 
convent  Irishmen.  But  he  does  not  do  so.  All  he  attempts 
to  show,  is,  that  Irishmen  have  been  whipped. 

The  mob  held  a caucus  ; a sort  of  infernal  town  meeting. 
This  is  the  evidence  of  Littlefield,  Hogan  and  Gerry.  They 
tell  you  that  a ring  was  made,  and  that  Buzzell  was  there ; 
that  the  mob  consulted  together,  and,  thinking  they  had  not 
enough  hands,  were  on  the  point  of  dispersing,  when  the  same 
sort  of  man  that  spoke  with  Fay  at  the  gate,  undertakes  to  stop 
them,  and  tells  them,  if  they  will  wait  fifteen  minutes,  he  will 
bring  a tar  barrel.  This  is  agreed  to,  and  he  goes  off,  shortly 
returns  with  a tar  barrel,  and  the  witnesses  see  him  assist  in 
kindling  the  flames.  One  of  the  mob  is  then  sent  off  to  ring  the 
Charlestown  bell,  the  engines  come,  people  assemble,  and  the 
rioters  then  commence  pulling  down  the  building.  I might 
rest  the  case  here.  It  stands  securely  at  this  stage  of  the  evi- 
dence. 

I am  reminded  that  the  senior  counsel  for  the  defence  took  a 
distinction  here,  and  contended  that  this  defendant  might  have 
been  at  the  gate,  and  talked  with  Judge  Fay,  and  still  be  igno- 
rant of  the  subsequent  outrages  at  the  convent.  It  would  be 
easy  to  show,  that  the  distinction,  taken  by  the  learned  gentle- 
man, is  groundless ; it  is  not  necessary,  however,  that  I should 
do  so,  because  we  prove  the  prisoner  to  have  been  both  at  the 


32 


gate  on  the  bonfire,  and  engaged  in  the  destruction  of  the  con- 
vent. He  runs  through  the  whole  piece — is  found  in  every 
scene.  We  have  adduced  abundant  evidence,  to  change  the 
burden  of  proof.  If  the  prisoner  was  not  at  the  bonfire,  but 
among  his  friends,  he  could  have  brought  them  all  here  to  show 
it-  But  he  does  not  do  so. 

We  come  now  to  other  testimony,  which,  however,  you 
might  throw  out  entirely,  without  weakening  the  case  for 
the  government.  Buck  is  an  accomplice.  What  then  ? An 
accomplice  is  a competent  witness.  But  Buck,  they  say,  is  a 
scoundrel.  A scoundrel  is,  then,  a competent  witness.  A thief 
may  impeach  his  companions.  He  is  a knave,  like  his  accom- 
plices ; but  if  the  law  permits  him  to  take  the  stand,  he  is  a 
competent  witness,  and  you  must  hear  him. 

Now  look  at  Henry  Buck,  a lad  of  19.  Do  you  believe  he 
set  this  thing  going  ? that  he  had  such  a regard  for  the  Protes- 
tant religion,  as  to  pull  down  a Catholic  convent  ? Do  you  be- 
lieve he  would  have  cared  one  cent,  if  it  had  been  a Turkish 
mosque,  or  a seraglio  ? Think  you  he  would  have  removed 
one  stone,  in  order  to  preserve  the  public  morals  from  con- 
tamination ? Not  he  ! Some  one  set  him  on.  I cannot  tell  you 
who  it  was ; my  tongue  is  tied.  But  he  was  set  on,  and  the 
parties  who  set  him  on  may  one  day  be  known ; I think  I know 
them  now  There  are  some  rules  of  law,  on  the  subject  of  ac- 
complices, worthy  your  notice.  [The  Attorney  General  then 
stated  them  at  large.]  This  witness  complies  with  these  rules. 
He  tells  his  own  agency  in  the  transaction.  He  keeps  nothing 
back  ; he  discloses  all  his  guilt.  He  does  not  hide  his  share  of 
crime.  It  is  necessary,  that  he  should  be  corroborated,  in  order 
to  be  believed ; for  although  men  have  been  condemned  on  the 
uncorroborated  testimony  of  an  accomplice,  that  would  not  be 
safe,  and  I would  not  advise  it,  on  any  occasion. 

Let  me  call  your  attention  to  the  policy  of  the  law  in  rela- 
tion to  this  matter.  Criminals  fear  and  distrust  their  compan- 
ions. There  would  be  no  safety  for  honest  men,  if  rogues  might 
confederate  without  fear  of  each  other.  The  law  means  to 


33 


break  up  the  adage  of  “ honor  among  thieves.”  It  means  to 
destroy  their  confidence  in  each  other.  We  might  shut  up  all 
Courts  of  Justice,  was  the  law  otherwise.  The  sheriff  cannot, 
in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  go  after  a thief,  until  he  has  got  infor- 
mation from  an  accomplice.  If  you  will  not  believe  an  accom- 
plice, you  bind  all  these  villains  together.  The  murder  at 
Salem  would  have  remained  undiscovered,  but  for  the  testimony 
of  an  accomplice,  and  that  accomplice  afterwards  suffered  death, 
in  consequence  of  having  forfeited  his  pledge  to  the  government. 

This  matter  is  of  importance.  We  must  put  some  confidence 
in  an  accomplice,  or  it  would  be  useless  to  permit  him  to  take 
the  stand.  There  is  public  policy  in  this.  Our  greatest 
security  consists  in  rendering  villains  distrustful  of  their  confed- 
erates. By  this  means,  they  are  obliged  to  go  to  work  singly, 
and  the  danger  from  confederacy  and  numbers  is  at  an  end. 
Were  there  no  receivers,  their  w^ould  be  no  thieves.  Whenever 
stolen  property  is  not  recovered  by  the  rightful  owner,  it  is  be- 
cause the  thieves  have  been  true  to  each  other.  If  you  declare 
that  you  will  not  credit  an  accomplice,  you  bind  all  these  men 
together  as  a band  of  brothers.  They  will  say  among  them- 
selves, “ There  is  no  danger  of  this  fellow  impeaching  us;  if  he 
does,  he  cannot  convict  us,  for  these  incredulous  jurors  will  not 
believe  a word  he  says.”  The  counsel  for  the  prisoner  ask 
you,  gentlemen,  to  put  this  language  into  the  mouths  of  all  these 
villains ; to  give  them  a carte  blanche  for  mischief.  I caution 
you  not  to  establish  a principle  of  this  kind.  Look  at  the  testi- 
mony of  this  accomplice,  and  see  if  it  is  not  corroborated.  If  it 
is  not,  give  him  to  the  wind;  but  if  it  is,  do  not  fear  to  do 
your  duty. 

Let  us  see,  then,  if  he  is  corroborated.  In  the  first  place, 
he  accuses  a man  who  is  pitched  upon  by  sixteen  other  witnes- 
ses. In  this  respect  he  is  corroborated.  Buck  says,  he  saw 
Buzzell  tear  down  the  convent  fence,  and  help  to  make  the 
bonfire.  Hogan,  Gerry,  Littlefield  and  Phelps,  say  the  same 
thing.  He  says  that  Buzzell  brought  a tar  barrel,  and  set  it  on 

fire,  in  order  to  collect  a crowd,  and  the  fact  is  stated  by  several 
5 


34 


other  witnesses.  The  only  statement  of  Buck’s  which  is  not 
corroborated,  is  his  assertion  that  he  knew  Buzzell.  And  in 
this  saying,  he  only  clinches  the  nail  that  had  been  driven  by 
others.  The  devil,  we  are  told,  can  quote  scripture ; and  a 
thief,  I tell  you,  may,  under  certain  circumstances,  speak  the 
truth.  No  man  comes  on  the  stand,  and  undertakes  to  tell  a 
long  and  false  story,  without  leaving  loop-holes,  which  such  coun- 
sel as  the  gentlemen  on  the  other  side  would  quickly  discern, 
and  through  which  they  would  quickly  cut  up  his  testimony. 

Buck  says  he  went  to  the  convent,  and  committed 
depredations,  and  that  he  saw  Buzzell  there  also.  This  tes- 
timony does  not  stand  alone,  because  if  you  prove  the  pris- 
oner to  have  been  engaged  in  the  affair  of  the  tar  barrels,,  it 
is  to  be  supposed  that  he  also  went  into  the  convent.  Had 
Buck  told  you  that  he  saw  Buzzell  busy  with  the  tar  barrels, 
and  did  not  see  him  in  the  building,  you  might,  with  reason 
and  propriety,  have  doubted  his  veracity.  When  Buck 
comes  to  the  interior  of  the  convent,  we  are  able  to  corrobo- 
rate him  by  Logan.  Logan  was  never  known  to  Buck  ; they 
only  happened  to  be  in  the  convent  together,  and  saw  and 
described  the  same  occurrences.  Thus  far,  then,  the  ac- 
complice answers  all  claims  made  upon  him.  But  I will  go 
further.  I have  said  he  is  to  tell  you  the  whole  truth.  Judge 
whether  or  not  he  has  done  so.  He  is  a boy  hanging  loose 
on  the  world.  He  told  you  where  ha  was  born — the  different 
places  he  had  worked  at  — and  even  that  he  had  changed  his 
name.  He  did  not  know  that  people  would  be  brought  in 
from  the  different  places  where  he  had  resided,  — he  did  not 
know,  when  he  w7as  questioned  by  counsel,  that  he  should  be 
confronted  with  his  employers,  — yet  you  saw  he  answered 
truly  the  questions  that  were  put  to  him. 

It  is  an  important  fact,  also,  that  no  part  of  the  evidence 
given  in  court  by  the  other  witnesses,  was  knowm  to  him  ; 
he  never  heard  a wTord  of  it.  If,  therefore,  these  witnesses 
corroborate  him,  he  must  have  drawn  the  testimony ,he  gave 
here  from  the  same  fountain  of  truth. 

He  has  told  you  of  two  meetings  at  the  school-house.  And 


35 


upon  this  point  we  can  offer  you  no  other  testimony,  because 
all  who  were  present  there  were  accomplices  also.  But  in  this 
respect,  circumstances,  that  cannot  lie,  corroborate  him.  It 
was  well  known  that  the  convent  was  to  come  down.  The 
stageman  knew  it  on  Saturday — several  of  the  witnesses 
from  Boston  knew  it.  Mr.  Thaxter  heard  of  it  in  Water- 
town.  There  were  rumors  every  where.  How  came  these 
rumors  abroad  ? There  must  have  been  a confederacy. 
Buck  tells  you  there  were  two  meetings  of  the  conspirators, 
and  that  they  did  not  then  proceed  to  action,  because  they 
had  not  hands  enough  for  the  work.  x\nd  w7as  there  net  a 
caucus  held  at  the  gate,  on  the  night  of  the  fire,  where  the 
same  statements  were  made?  Was  there  not  a ring  formed, 
and  did  they  not  propose  to  put  off  ihe  outrage  till  another 
night,  because  they  were  not  then  strong  enough  to  do  the 
infernal  deed?”  Here  is  confirmation  of  Buck’s  statement, 
“ strong  as  proof  of  holy  writ.” 

But  the  learned  gentlemen  attempt  to  disprove  his  testimony 
by  that  of  Tufts , who,  they  say„  lived  near  the  school-house, 
and  did  not  know  any  thing  of  the  meetings.  Most  u lame 
and  impotent  conclusion.”  The  witness  himself  stated  be- 
fore you,  gentlemen,  that  he  was  usually  abed  and  asleep  be- 
fore the  hour  at  which  the  meetings  took  place.  But  Buck 
puts  himself  completely  into  your  power,  in  this  matter.  He 
tells  you  that  he  was  sent  to  call  Kelley’s  men  to  the  second 
meeting,  and  that  they  replied  they  were  “ all  up  to  it,  and 
would  be  there.”  If  he  spoke  falsely,  how  easily  might  he 
be  contradicted.  But  not  one  of  Kelley’s  men  came  forward 
to  contradict  him.  Again,  Buck  is  asked  how  he  came  to 
go  down  to  the  convent  on  the  night  of  the  fire,  and  he  says 
he  did  so  in  consequence  of  what  Mr.  Adams  told  him.  If 
he  told  a lie  in  this  particular,  why  is  not  Mr.  Adams  here  to 
prove  the  falsehood.  Gentlemen,  take  my  word  for  it,  no 
man  puts  himself  in  the  power  of  another  if  he  means  to  tell 
lies.  Liars  deal  in  generalities,  not  in  minutiae.  Buck  says, 
that  when  the  ring  was  formed,  the  mob  were  not  at  first  dis- 
posed to  commence  the  work  of  destruction  ; they  said  there 


36 


were  not  enough  hands.  Does  not  Gerry  tell  you  the 
same  thing  ? Buck  here  puts  it  in  the  power  of  Gerry  or 
the  other  witnesses  to  contradict  him  if  he  had  spoken  false- 
ly. He  says  also,  that  about  thirty  of  the  mob  went  up  to 
the  convent  and  shouted,  but  came  down  again  without  doing 
any  thing,  and  this  statement  is  confirmed  by  the  Superior 
and  Gerry  ; the  latter  heard  the  shouts  at  a considerable  dis- 
tance. He  tells  you  about  the  tar  barrels,  the  Charlestown 
bells  being  rung,  and  the  engines  coming.  If  these  things 
were  not  so — if  he  had  told  falsehoods,  they  could  be  in- 
stantly detected  ; but  on  the  contrary,  he  is  confirmed  by  all 
the  witnesses.  There  is  another  important  fact  illustrative 
of  Buck’s  veracity.  He  tells  you  that  it  was  proposed  to 
tear  down  a blacksmith’s  shop,  a piece  of  mischief  which 
was  doubtless  projected  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  the  mob 
together.  Now  there  was  no  need  of  his  telling  this  if  it 
were  not  true.  It  does  not  bear  upon  the  case  at  all. 
Phelps  says  there  was  something  of  this  kind.  That  it  was 
proposed  to  pull  down  some  hovels  near  a blacksmith’s  shop. 
Even  this  minute  truth  Buck  tells  you  in  his  anxiety  to  fulfil 
the  terms  of  his  contract  with  the  government.  He  says 
also  that  Kelley  was  at  one  of  these  meetings  ; there  again 
you  might  contradict  him  if  be  lied.  He  says  that  the  mob 
did  not  break  Kelley’s  fence,  when  they  were  told  that  it  was 
his.  Look  at  the  plan,  Gentlemen,  which  has  been  made  by 
the  surveyor,  and  you  will  find  Kelley’s  fence  untouched. 
Again  he  says,  that  one  of  the  engines  that  came  up  first,  in- 
stead of  going  to  the  bonfire,  proceeded  strait  up  the  avenue 
to  the  convent.  There  the  enginemen  might  disprove  his  tes- 
timony were  it  not  true.  He  tells  you  the  extraordinary  fact 
(which  I am  happy  to  say  can  be  satisfactorily  explained) 
that  of  the  engine  going  from  the  fire  instead  of  to  it.  Im- 
mediately afterwards  the  Convent  was  attacked,  and  here  he 
begins  to  show  you  his  own  agency  in  the  affair.  He  tells 
you  that  he  took  a piece  of  wood  and  with  others  jammed  the 
door  open.  Hooper  and  Balfour,  and  many  others,  say 
this  was  the  way  their  entry  was  made.  He  next  informs 


37 


you  that  the  mob  waited  till  they  had  ascertained  if  the  in- 
mates were  all  out  ; and  Hooper  says  he  told  them  that 
there  was  a sick  woman  and  children  within  the  building,  and 
they  said  they  should  not  be  hurt,  but  that  the  Cross  must 
come  down.  Buck  then  states  that  he  got  into  the  Convent 
and  commenced  throwing  out  the  furniture,  &c.;  and  Hooper 
tells  you  he  was  obliged  to  get  from  under  the  windows  to 
avoid  being  struck  by  the  articles  which  were  cast  out. 
Buck  says,  the  mob  were  armed  with  pieces  of  wood,  and 
this  is  confirmed  by  Logan  and  others.  Here  then  are  facts 
stated,  all  of  which  might  be  controverted  if  they  were  not 
founded  in  truth,  but  which  are  in  the  fullest  manner  con- 
firmed. Buck  is  now  inside  the  building  ; there  he  says  he 
took  property  himself  and  saw  others  take  it, — saw  them 
breaking  open  drawers  and  commencing  a work  of  plunder 
which  I trust  will  never  again  disgrace  this  country.  He 
says,  lights  were  procured  from  an  engine  torch,  and 
Hooper  says  the  same.  The  next  fact  he  tells  you  is  that 

HE  SAW  BuZZELL  THERE  WITH  A CLUB  IN  HIS  HAND. 

Now  look  at  this  in  connection  with  what  has  been  stated  by 
other  witnesses.  Barrett  tells  you  that  Buzzell  said  he  was 
u ready  to  be  the  first  man  to  break  into  the  Convent,”  and 
here  is  Buck  who  saw  him  in  the  building  with  a club  in  his 
hand.  Sissons  and  Barrett  say  they  heard  him  say  “ I am 
old  R.  and  will  be  on  hand.”  The  time  had  come  for  him  to 
be  on  hand.  Nobody  was  likely  to  see  him  but  an  accom- 
plice, and  here  is  the  accomplice  testifying  to  the  fact. 

Buck  says  there  were  lights,  and  Balfour  and  Logan  tell  you 
that  the  mob  lighted  the  candles  which  they  found  in  the 
Convent.  He  states  too  that  the  first  fire  was  made  in  the 
chapel,  and  Draper  confirms  this  statement.  Buck  is  cautious; 
he  does  not  tell  more  than  he  actually  saw.  He  did  not  see 
Buzzell  set  the  fire,  and  he  says  so.  If  he  wanted  to  convict 
Buzzell  he  would  say  he  saw  him  fire  the  building,  burn  the 
bible,  trample  on  the  cross,  heave  out  the  image  of  the  Sa- 
viour, and  participate  in  all  that  brutality  of  outrage  which 
disgraced  the  horrid  scene,  and  which  makes  the  heart  sick 


33 


to  contemplate — but  he  does  not.  He  does  not  unnecessa- 
rily or  falsely  criminate  the  prisoner.  He  says  Li  I broke  in 
the  door,  but  Buzzell  did  not.”  If  he  came  here  to  lie, 
why  not  do  so  through  thick  and  thin.  He  has  not  said  any 
one  thing  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  which  any  body 
contradicts  under  oath.  He  has  said  that  there  was  a per- 
son called  Cutter  at  the  meeting  at  the  schoolhouse.  It  is 
not  pretended  that  either  Mr.  Fitz  or  Mr.  Edward  Cutter 
was  the  person  alluded  to  ; but  still  there  may  have  been 
a Cutter  at  the  meetings.  Did  every  one  use  his  own  name? 
Who  was  the  Mr.  Cutter  at  the  meeting  may  come  out  in 
due  time.  What  is  rhore  likely  than  that  men  engaged  in 
such  an  affair  as  this  should  take  other  men’s  names?.  Nick- 
names we  know  were  in  vogue  among  them.  Kelley,  for 
example,  was  called  Priest  Kelly  and  sometimes  Priest. 
Suppose  another  individual  chose  to  take  the  appellation  of 
Cutter  Jones,  and  was  addressed  by  the  first  name,  Cutler, 
for  shortness?  Why  should  he  bring  Cutter’s  name  into  this 
matter  if  he  had  not  heard  it?  What  motive  was  there  for 
him  to  do  so?  None  but  his  determination  to  tell  the  whole 
truth,  even  the  most  minute  circumstance.  He  knows  that 
he  agreed  to  tell  every  thing,  and  he  feels  the  necessity  of 
keeping  his  word.  And  permit  me  to  tell  you  that  the  most 
valuable  service  rendered  by  an  accomplice  is  his  testifying, 
not  so  much  to  positive  as  to  collateral  facts. 

There  is  another  important  point  connected  with  this  part  of 
the  subject.  Buck  was  present  during  the  whole  affair,  and 
knew  his  associates — he  knew  who  was  guilty.  If  Buzzell 
had  not  been  engaged  in  the  transaction,  is  it  likely  that  Buck 
would  have  selected  him?  Would  he,  if  he  wanted  to  procure 
a conviction  as  the  gentleman  says,  have  selected  an  innocent 
man,  when  there  were  so  many  guilty  ones  around  him,  who 
would  have  so  much  better  answered  his  purpose  ? He  would 
have  felt  sure  that  ah  innocent  man  would  have  convicted  him 
of  falsehood.  Is  it  likely,  even  supposing  his  own  safety  to 
depend  upon  his  procuring  the  conviction  of  another,  that  he 
would,  bad  as  he  may  be,  have  so  gratuitously  undertaken  to 


39 


swear  away  the  life  of  an  innocent  man  ? — that  lie  should  have 
put  himself  to  the  trouble  of  inventing  a tale  of  guilt,  and  ex- 
pose himself  to  the  hazard  of  maintaining  it  on  the  stand, 
when  there  were  so  many  guilty  persons  on  all  sides  of  him, 
and  the  story  of  their  guilt  ready  made  to  his  hands  ? No, 
gentlemen,  depend  upon  it,  if  Buck  says  this  man  is  guilty,  he 
is  guilty.  Buck  could  have  no  motive  for  testifying  falsely  in 
this  respect.  Again,  is  not  the  charge  .against.  Buzzell  in  per- 
fect accordance  with  the  character  of  that  individual  ? The 
gentlemen  talk  of  his  good  character.  No  man  can  have  a 
good  character  who  would  beat  another  in  the  way  that  he  beat 
Rossiter.  Buzzell  is  a large  man  ; in  comparison  with  him, 
Rossiter  is  a baby.  Judge  of  his  character  from  his  behavior 
to  Judge  Fay  at  the  gate.  Afterwards,  when  the  convent  was 
on  fire — when  every  other  man’s  heart  would  have  sunk  into 
his  shoes,  this  man  is  called  upon  to  sing  the  lo  triumphe,  and 
with  a vulgar  song  crown  the  atrocities  of  the  night.  But  I 
have  not  done  with  the  corroborations  of  Buck’s  testimony. 
They  multiply  under  my  hands.  He  says,  that  he  saw  a fellow 
carrying  a brand  to  a small  building,  intending  to  set  it  on  fire, 
but  that  he  was  prevented  by  an  engine-man,  who  tried  to  ar- 
rest him,  when  the  fellow  cried  for  help,  and  Buzzell  interfered. 

1 was  not  able  of  myself  to  learn  anything  in  connection  with  this 
point,  but  the  gentlemen  of  the  defence  have  themselves  furnished 
me  with  the  very  thing  I wanted.  Barker,  one  of  the  witnesses 
for  the  prisoner,  told  you  that  when  the  main  buildings  were  in 
flames,  a small  man  and  a large  one  came  down  from  the  con- 
vent together,  and  that  the  former  said,  “ I tried  twice  to  set 
fire  to  that  building,  and  the  fool  of  a Charlestown  engine-man 
would  not  let  me.”  Is  not  this  an  accidental  corroboration  of 
Buck,  and  from  one  of  the  defendant’s  own  witnesses  ? Buck 
was  to  tell  the  whole  truth,  and  he  has  dene  it.  Gentlemen, 
let  me  ask  you  to  consider  the  condition  of  this  individual.  If 
ever  there  was  a person  upon  whom  every  possible  obligation 
was  at  once  operating  to  make  him  tell  the  truth,  that  person  is 
Henry  Buck.  I may  admit  that  if  the  screwrs  were  not  on  him, 
he  might  falsify.  But  as  it  is,  he  comes  here  with  the  belief 


40 


that  if  he  is  for  a moment  found  tripping,  he  is  a lost  man. 
There  is  an  accusation  against  him,  of  which  he  has  confessed 
himself  guilty ; and  there  is  no  hope  for  him  but  in  telling  the 
truth.  All  the  penalties  against  perjury  never  equalled  the 
power  which  is  now  operating  upon  this  man,  and  obliging  him 
to  tell  the  truth.  Even  if  the  Governor  and  Council  should 
take  compassion  upon  his  youth,  the  state  prison,  and  that  for 
life,  must  be  his  lot.  But  the  counsel  for  the  defence  say,  his 
testimony  is  impeached — that  he  was  a lying  boy  when  he 
lived  at  Plainfield,  and  they  have  brought  individuals  from  New 
Hampshire  to  prove  it.  How  idle  was  all  this.  The  best  an- 
swer to  it  is,  he  has  never  been  accused  and  never  con- 
victed of  any  previous  crime.  To  bring  boys  of  seventeen  to 
tell  what  his  character  was  eight  or  nine  years  ago,  is  perfectly 
idle.  There  was  no  need  of  impeaching  him.  He  impeaches 
himself.  He  tells  you  he  is  a Rioter,  a Burglar,  a Robber; 
seduced  in  this  instance  by  older  soldiers,  if  not  better,  he 
made  war  on  the  defenceless,  he  plundered  the  weak,  he 
drove  out  the  women  from  their  fire-sides,  and  the  children 
from  their  sleeping  chambers.  All  this  is  horrible,  most  hor- 
rible. But  what  then?  He  had  assistants,  aiders,  abettors, 
leaders  in  this  terrible  tragedy.  He  is  a boy,  active  enough 
to  execute,  but  unable  to  plan — ready  to  follow,  but  incom- 
petent to  lead.  He  knows  his  leaders,  his  associates,  his 
companions  in  the  midnight  conclaves,  and  in  that  awful 
eruption  which  seemed  as  if  all  hell  had  poured  its  legions  of 
infernal  spirits  to  molest  and  to  madden  us.  Who  are  they? 
He  knows,  and  he  tells  you.  He  tells  you  the  prisoner  is 
one.  Doubt  him  if  you  can.  But  look  to  it,  that  in  profess- 
ing to  doubt  what  he  says,  you  are  not  reckoned  among 
those  who  are  most  deaf  because  they  will  not  hear,  and 
most  blind  because  they  willingly  shut  their  eyes  to  the  light. 
Have  reason  for  your  doubts,  and  do  not  make  your  own 
scepticism,  your  own  unwillingness  to  believe,  generate  your 
supposed  incredulity.  Above  all,  gentlemen,  take  care  that 
nobody  shall  say  of  you,  you  were  willing  to  doubt,  from 


41 


sympathy  for  the  actors,  or  want  of  indignation  for  their  exe- 
crable act.  Buck’s  crime  is  not  the  worst  that  can  be  com- 
mitted. He  was  an  accessary  to  this  deed  of  shame  in  the 
excitement  of  warm  blood,  in  the  ardor  of  the  moment,  in 
the  thoughtlessness  and  rashness  of  youth.  They  will  be 
accessaries  after  the  fact,  who  calmly,  coolly,  deliberately 
justify  the  incendiaries,  or  seek  for  any  possible  excuse  to 
shelter  them  from  punishment. 

I now  proceed  to  the  testimony  of  James  Logan ; and  here 
I should  be  justified  in  making  a complaint,  for  Logan  has 
been  seriously  injured.  We  supposed  the  character  of  all  the 
witnesses  might  be  attacked,  excepting  that  of  Messrs.  Fay 
and  Thaxter,  and  we  had  inquired  about  Logan,  and  produc- 
ed evidence  as  to  his  character;  but  when  the  prisoner’s 
counsel  for  the  defence  said  he  should  not  attack  Logan’s 
reputation,  we  told  that  person  these  witnesses  need  not  re- 
main. The  very  next  morning,  however,  the  gentleman 
opened  his  battery  upon  Logan,  bringing  persons  in  Logan’s 
own  trade  to  testify  against  him.  Gardeners,  certainly,  are 
not  the  most  important  persons  in  the  world  to  give  opinions 
as  to  the  witness’  character.  Two  of  a trade  never  agree, 
and  perhaps  in  the  present  case  Logan  may  have  said  their 
grapes  were  sour,  or  his  may  have  been  a little  acid  to  their 
taste.  But  how  is  it  on  the  other  side.  Although  so  short  a 
time  has  been  allowed,  you  have  heard  several  of  your  most 
respectable  fellow  citizens,  (among  the  rest,  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Byrne),  testify  that  the  character  of  Logan  is  good;  that  they 
never  heard  anything  against  him.  But  the  gentlemen  of  the 
defence  say  that  his  evidence  is  worth  nothing — that  “their 
not  having  heard  anything  against  Logan,”  is  but  negative 
testimony.  If  the  men  in  whose  families  Logan  has  lived 
for  many  years,  know  nothing  against  him,  his  character  is 
good.  And  here  is  his  priest.  You  have  heard  something 
in  this  case,  of  auricular  confession,  and  I need  not  tell  you, 
that  if  Logan  had  done  anything  wrong,  the  priest  would 
know  it.  Permit  me  to  tell  you,  that  the  testimony  of  Lo- 
fi 


42 


gan’s  clergyman  is  the  very  best  testimony  you  could  possibly 
have. 

If  Logan  is  even  put  out  of  the  case  by  the  attack  that  has 
been  made  upon  him,  the  guilt  of  the  prisoner  is  ascertained 
beyond  a doubt.  It  may  have  seemed  strange  to  you,  gen- 
tlemen, that  Logan  should  have  accompanied  the  rioters  from 
room  to  room,  and  taken  from  the  convent  several  articles. 
His  conduct  ivould  be  strange  in  this  particular,  but  for  two 
circumstances.  Logan  is  a Catholic,  and  he  swears  to  you, 
that  he  went  to  the  convent  for  the  purpose  of  doing  what 
good  he  could,  and  of  protecting  the  helpless  women  and 
children  whom  he  knew  wTere  within  its  walls.  But  fortu- 
nately, there  w7as  one  true  hearted  American  within  the  build- 
ing. Walter  Balfour  went  for  the  honest  purpose  of  doing 
what  he  could,  and  all  he  could,  for  the  protection  of  the 
fugitive  family,  and  identifying  the  persons  of  the  miscreants 
who  were  perpetratig  this  midnight  felony.  Both  saw  individ- 
uals, within  the  building  whom  they  knew.  Logan  has  told 
you,  that  he  saw  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  there,  and  Balfour 
will  tell  more  when  the  proper  time  arrives  for  him  to  do  so. 

And  now  I ask  you,  gentlemen,  what  is  your  duty  ? If 
you  have  followed  me  in  my  argument,  and  have  found  no 
flaw  in  the  case  for  the  government,  I ask  you  what  you  are 
to  do?  If  you  are  put  on  the  jury  to  let  the  prisoner  escape, 
I know  not  but  that  you  may  do  so  in  this,  as  in  all  cases; 
thus  bringing  trial  by  jury  into  uselessness  and  contempt.  It 
will  only  be  necessary  for  a prisoner  to  get  false  witnesses, 
and  he  is  safe.  I ask  you  to  examine  this  as  you  would  any 
any  other  case.  There  is  no  mystery  about  it.  You  have 
been  told  that  you  are  to  have  no  reasonable  doubt.  Granted. 
But  what  are  reasonable  doubts.  They  are  not  mere  pos- 
sibilities. There  never  was  a case  in  which  there  was  not  a 
possibility  of  a man’s  being  innocent.  We  are  to  see 
whether  the  evidence  leads  the  mind  satisfactorily  to  a con- 
viction of  the  prisoner’s  guilt;  and  where  three  or  four  cred- 
ible witnesses  have  sworn  that  he  is  guilty,  there  can  be  no 


43 


reasonable  doubt.  It  is  only  reasonable  satisfaction  that  a 
jury  has  any  right  to  expect.  You  are  not  to  expect  to  see 
the  crime  committed.  The  murder  at  Salem  was  not  com- 
mitted in  the  presence  of  a jury.  You  are  to  put  faith  in 
human  testimony;  in  the  judgment,  veracity,  and  fairness  of 
upright  and  honorable  men.  On  this,  all  our  security  in  this 
world,  and  all  our  hopes  of  another,  mainly  depend.  It  is 
human  testimony  that  governs  all  our  actions,  by  which  we 
move,  in  all  the  relations  of  life,  and  by  which  every  thing 
dear  to  us  is  made  safe  and  secure.  You  are  not  to  doubt 
it  without  cause — from  caprice,  or  stubbornness,  or  general 
incredulity.  You  are  not,  like  the  doubting  apostle  to  say, 
u Unless  I see  in  his  hands  the  print  of  the  nails,  and  put  my 
finger  into  the  print  of  the  nails,  I will  not  believe.”  You 
are  to  draw  your  conclusions  from  facts,  and  are  no  more  at 
liberty  to  palter  with  your  oaths  than  a witness  has  to  perjure 
himself  on  the  stand.  You  know  that  crimes  will  be  committed; 
that  they  must  be  punished.  You  know  that  human  testimo- 
ny can  only  come  to  a certain  point;  that  there  is  a limit  to 
its  power,  beyond  which  it  cannot  go,  or  be  carried.  Judge 
you,  whether  all  has  not  been  done  in  this  case,  that  could  be 
done  in  any  case,  to  satisfy  your  minds.  Facts,  of  various 
kinds  and  from  various  quarters,  all  converging,  like  the  sun’s 
rays,  to  one  focus,  have  been  brought  before  you.  If,  not- 
withstanding such  a concurrence  of  testimony  and  circum- 
stances, this  man  is  to  go  clear,  there  is  an  end  of  any  confi- 
dence in  trial  by  jury.  We  may  give  a carte  blanche  to 
criminals,  for  the  law  will  henceforth  be  unable  to  restrain 
them.  If  you  wish  to  support  the  institutions  of  your  coun- 
try, you  must  not  put  yourselves  on  the  defence  in  this  case. 
You  must  deal  liberally  and  candidly  with  the  government. 
You  are  not  to  demand  what  no  human  power  can  give,  and 
then  because  it  is  not  given  set  the  prisoner  at  liberty.  You 
will  view  this  case  in  the  same  way  that  you  would  any  other;  ^ 
carefully  guarding  both  the  rights  of  the  prisoner,  and  the 


44 


best  interests  of  the  country;  which  country  you  are.  Jus- 
tice, and  the  supremacy  of  the  law,  are  to  be  sustained  by 
your  verdict,  which  will  be  remembered  as  long  as  your  coun- 
try exists.  Gentlemen,  I have  done  my  duty,  imperfectly, 
perhaps  ; go  and  do  your’s  better. 


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